The Wrong Love
by QuinnandSam
Summary: Quinn Fabray has been holding on to a love she had in high school for 7 years now. But what happens when she finds out the man she's in love with has been living in the same city as her, and is happily married?
1. Is That Him?

**Ok, idea just randomy popped into my head i decided i should give it a try. Enjoy! **

Quinn's POV

Prologue

Life hasn't been kind to me, first I got pregnant at 16, and I had to give up my baby, then I lost the only guy who ever really loved me, then I let him leave me and move across the country; but my life got better, I got into a great college, I have great friends, and I'm a rising designer with a decent income. But something was missing, something that I had once had, long ago, 7 years ago to be exact. I was loved 7 years ago; I haven't been loved ever since. Sure I've been on dates and had one- night stands but never once had I been loved. I thought I was going to die alone, but one day, 41 days ago, for one brief minute I thought I wasn't. But that all soon came crashing down on my head. He was married, and it wasn't to me. He had reentered my life, but he was always there in my heart. It all started on a warm spring day, the first day of spring to be exact.

41 days ago

Spring meant renewal, rebirth, and that was exactly what I am going to do. I am going to forgive and forget my past. That isn't going to hold me down anymore, I am Quinn Fabray, and I don't let anything hold me down. Smiling at my new found confidence I walk out of my Los Angeles apartment and get into my car, driving to my studio I listen to Pink's "Freaking Perfect", drumming my fingers along the steering wheel, it's not long before I arrive to my studio.

I walk step out of my car and walk to the building that is connected to my own little boutique. I smile at myself, business is booming as usual as I see customers inside being helped by my employees. I walk through the doors towards my office where my secretary, Lindy, who is answering calls, hands me a cup of coffee. I smile at her and mouth 'thank you' as she returned to assisting whoever she was on the phone with. I sit down on my desk and immediately start sketching my new clothing idea.

I do that for about 2 hours when I look over at my clock, it's nearly noon. I decide to go to the boutique and see how it's going. Making my way towards the store, I can't help think that this new found confidence in my life is awesome. I mean I'm only 24, my life has barely started, and maybe it'll end up being great after all. Walking into the boutique I am immediately greeted by the saleswomen and clerks, I politely wave over to them and walk around my store, admiring my work. I look at towards the dressing rooms where I see one of the saleswomen speaking to a young, pretty woman; about her age, blonde hair, blue eyes, judging from the cloths she was wearing and the purse she was carrying she was very rich; the woman was telling the saleswoman something and the saleswoman quickly nodded taking the dress in the woman's hands and rushing over to get what the lady wanted.

I gave a small chuckle as I watched the two women, when all of a sudden I bump into someone. I avert my eyes towards that direction and see it's a tall, lean man, with blonde hair and blue eyes; he was wearing an expensive pinstriped dress shirt loosely with a pair of khaki pants. He was very good looking, but he had large, full lips, he looked so much like… no, it couldn't be him.

"I'm so sorry miss," he said as he looked at me for the first time and confusion flushed over his eyes. Those eyes, the same eyes, the same nose, the same lips, the same face; it was him.

"Sam," I whispered as I looked into the eyes of the man who once loved me, only to have his heart ripped out.

Sam looked at me with a confused look on his, and then as if his brain was putting the pieces together, I see him recognize me.

"Quinn?" he says, looking me over, still unsure if I am who I am.

I nod, "Yeah," I say staring into those blue orbs, sometimes his eyes are green, sometimes blue; I remember from those times when we were dating. I find myself getting lost in his beautiful eyes; I give him a small smile.

He smiles back at me and I feel my heart melt. He reaches hands towards me and gives me a short friendly hug, which feels so damn good to me I never want to let go. But before I can fully savor the moment of his strong arms being around me he pulls away. I quickly hide the hurt in my eyes and replace it with a smile.

"How've you been?" he asks me, standing a little too far for my liking.

"Good," I say, happy just to be talking to him again, "how about you? We haven't really kept in touch after you moved from Lima." I know I shouldn't have said that as soon as the words come from my mouth, we weren't friends; maybe he stopped hating me after I helped him babysit his siblings and not tell anyone about his secret and maybe we hooked up a few times during those weeks, but we were never friends.

But he smiles at me like we were the best of friends, "yea I know, I feel so bad for that I should've kept in touch with you guys, I'm good though. It's been so long since I've seen you," he says that heart melting smile never leaving his sexy lips.

"You look good," I say before I can stop myself. To my relief he laughs, and doesn't look one bit bothered.

"Thanks, and so do you. I never thought you would end up being a designer, but by the looks of this place your doing pretty well," he says admiring the boutique.

"Yea, I guess after high school I kind of changed my perspective on things," I say thinking back to my life with Sam in it.

"So, are you seeing anyone? Married? Kids?" he asks curiously

I shake my head, "no, not really," I say studying his face for some sign of that being a ploy question, but I don't find anything, finally I ask, "you?"

Before he can say anything the woman I had saw trying on clothes earlier comes over and clutches Sam's arm, carrying tow bags of clothes, "baby, I'm done, let's go," she says, just then does she notice me, " hi, who's this?" she says to me and then Sam.

"Mallory, this is Quinn, she's an old high school friend of mine, Quinn this is Mallory, my wife," Sam says looking lovingly at Mallory. Wife! Did he just say wife? My heart feels like it's breaking slowly, painfully as I see Sam kiss Mallory's hair affectionately. I look down at his left hand which is now intertwined with Mallory's right; and there it is, a solid golden wedding band on his third finger.

I try to keep my face as calm as possible, as my heart shatters inside, "oh, you're married," I say forcing a smile on my face, "that's great." I force the words out of my mouth as Sam smiles at me.

"It is isn't it," Sam says putting his arm around Mallory.

"Quinn," Mallory says, "I remember Sam telling me that you were in glee club with him during high school," she smiles at me, "you briefly dated in high school, right?"

I give a small nod, to the woman who's the wife of the man who I was once and probably still in love with. I want to say that it was not brief, it was for months, but that would be inappropriate at a time like this.

"The way Sam tells me everyone in glee club either hooked up or dated each other," she says laughing, Sam laughs too, and I manage to force myself to a small laugh.

"Yea, so much drama in that one glee club, right Quinn?" Sam says running has hand up and down Mallory's arm, I picked up every little one of their movements and it made me feel physically ill.

"Yea," I say without anything better to say, that so called drama was the only love I've been holding on to for the past 7 years.

"I can't believe Sam knows you, your one of my favorite designers, your work is amazing. I never thought my husband was once friends with Quinn Fabray," Mallory says happily.

I want to tell her that Sam and I were more then friends, that we loved each other and that I was the first woman he ever loved, that he lost his virginity to me! But all I manage is "thank you."

Sam looks at his watch and then at me, "its, already past noon. We have to go Quinn, but it was nice to see you again," he says to me. I halfheartedly nod, and Sam pulls a card out of his wallet and hands it to me, "here, take this. We should keep in touch this time," he says, before turning to Mallory and saying, "let's go babe."

Mallory nods and looks at me, "it was nice meeting you Quinn," she says and with that the happy couple leaves the store, arms linked.

I look down at the business card Sam had handed me, it read:

Dr. Samuel Evans MD- Cardiologist/Surgeon,

200 N Carolwood Drive Beverly Hills, CA 90210

Office: Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center 757 Westwood Plaza, Los Angeles, CA 90095

Ph. # (301) 883-743, Work Ph. # (301) 573-2938

Cardiologist/Surgeon? Sam is a heart surgeon? A heart surgeon? The boy who had dyslexia, who had trouble with like every class in high school, and read comic books, was now a heart surgeon? I couldn't believe how much Sam had changed, like really changed, he was different, everything about him. He was happy, confident, and special, not that he hadn't always been special, but I felt like I didn't even know the man who was now married and a heart-surgeon. He wasn't my Sam anymore, he was her Sam. Mallory's Sam.

I put the card in my back pocket and walked back to my office, not bothering to get lunch.

I went home that evening tired and barely awake. It's a miracle that I was able to drive home. Work takes my mind off things and that is exactly what I wanted. I didn't want to think about Sam Evans and his wife, I didn't want the think of the fact that he was married and that I was probably still going to die alone. I worked like a maniac after they had left the boutique; I finished my summer collection's designs while this season had just started. Lindy had finally convinced me to go home when she had seen me falling asleep at my desk. As soon as I got home I collapsed on my bed and went to sleep, not dreaming just sleeping.

**The next chapter's already posted to read that and tell me what u think.**

**R&R**


	2. Closure

**Okay, so here's the next chapter. this one is a little short so i also uploaded the next one.**

I wake up to the sun peaking through my window. I yawn, it is Thursday, it's been 3 days since I saw Sam and his wife and those have been three years of pure hell. The first night was the worst, I ugly cried basically all day; the next day got better, I went to work but just sat there, seeing I had already done work for the next few weeks in one day. Today is a good day, I feel good, healthy, still upset about Sam, but better, a lot better.

I get out of bed and head to the bathroom; I take a shower and brush my teeth before going to the kitchen to get some breakfast. Then I hear my door bell ring; who could be here at 6 in the morning? I slowly walk over to the door and look through the peep whole to see Brittany and Santana standing there. I open the door and am immediately embraced by my two best friends; I laugh and hug them back. Santana and Brittany and I have been best friends ever since college, we've been through so much together that I know that no matter what they'll be there for me. They had both just come back from a trip to San Francisco for their jobs; they were journalists for the entertainment and fashion section of the Los Angeles Times.

"Omigosh, you guys are back," I say as we pull away from our hug.

"Yep, and you'll never guess who called us to say that you were acting weird and we needed to get to the bottom of it," Santana said quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, Lindy of course," says Brittany who has surprisingly gotten smarter since high school.

I laugh, ofcourse Lindy called them, Lindy always called them when she thought something was up with me, whether I was sick, or love sick Santana and Brittany always knew how to make me feel better.

Santana walks into my apartment followed by Brittany, both of them sitting on the couch, "So, spill," Santana says once she's sat down.

I sigh and go and sit on the other couch in front of them, there's no need to hide things from them anymore. "Ok, so I was at my boutique about 3 days ago and guess who I bumped into?"

"Omigod! Angelina Jolie?" Brittany asks standing up and reaching in her purse for her notepad with excitement, I laugh and shake my head. Yes, Brittany has gotten smarter but not really smart.

"No, I saw Sam Evans," I say as Brittany sits down in disappointment. Both Santana and Brittany both freeze as I tell them this, I can see it immediately, "what is it?"

"Well, you know when I covered that story about that old actor having a heart attack?," Santana asks, "well, Sam was kind of the doctor who was working on him, but I never really saw him, just heard that the doctor was named Sam Evans, I never really thought he was our Sam." After a silence of 10 seconds, Santana says "Keep going," she nudged Brittany and Brittany nodded waiting for me to continue.

"And he wasn't there alone," I say, my heart sinking as I replay the scene in my head, "he was there with his wife." Both Santana and Brittany didn't look shocked, they looked… guilty. Why did they look guilty? "Ok, what's going on?" I ask after a while of observing their expressions.

Santana sighed and nodded towards Brittany. "His wife is Mallory Evans," Brittany says.

I knit my eyebrows together in confusion, "yes, how do you know that?" I ask my best friends.

"She's the editor in chief of the entertainment and fashion section of the Times," Santana says quietly, that if I wasn't listening I wouldn't even be able to hear her.

"What?" I say, my morning mind still not getting what they were saying.

"She's kinds our boss," Santana says loudly, I can feel myself getting mad; "she's been for a while now"

"How do you know Sam's her husband?" it pained me to say that word.

"Well, she has their wedding pictures on her desk, and he may have came by her office once or twice," Brittany says guiltily, her and Santana's eyes were anywhere but me.

"You knew? You knew he was here and you didn't tell me?" I say in disbelief, my eyes getting watery, "why?"

"We, we didn't want to tell you because we knew you'd be upset," Santana says defensively and Brittany nods.

"We know you never really got over him, Q" Brittany says quietly and I can feel the tears dropping from my eyes, "Q, don't cry," Brittany rushes over to sits beside me and she hugs me, I rest my head on the crook of her neck. Santana sits on the other side of me and strokes my hair soothingly.

"We're so sorry, Q," Santana whispers, "but it's going to be okay," she starts rubbing my back while Brittany pats my head.

I eventually pull myself together and lay my head back against the pillows of the couch. "What am I going to do?" I ask, partially to Brittany and Santana, but mostly to my self.

"Well, "Brittany says tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "you can steal him away, he was yours first."Santana and I quickly sit up and look at Brittany in disbelief, "what?" she asks.

"Britt, he's married!" Santana says in shock.

"I can't steal him away from his lawfully married wife," I say looking at Brittany.

"Hey it was just a suggestion," Brittany says with her hands raised up defensively.

"How about you try to be his friend," Santana suggests.

"How can I do that with out jumping on him, I mean have you guys seen him, he is one hot doctor," I say laughing along with Brittany and Santana.

"Well, if you become his friend then you'll get somewhat of closure, since you can't get the kind that actually works since he's married," Santana says.

I can't help thinking that maybe she's right. Maybe the reason I hadn't gotten over Sam, was that I hadn't had any closure. I mean I had closure with Finn after we tried to be a couple again after I cheated on Sam with him. Puck and I weren't ever really a couple, we just had a baby together and that was all sorted out senior year when we got back together, but then broke up like 3 days later after we realized that we both loved Beth but not each other. But I hadn't had any closure with Sam, those times we made love during the end of junior year weren't closure, they were more of comfort and love. But not goodbye. Maybe I needed that with Sam and the only way I could get that was by being his friend.

"Ok, how do I become his friend?" I ask Brittany and Santana, "I mean his wife is not gonna like her husband being bff's with his ex."

"Oh no, Sam and Mallory aren't like that. They have a complete trust policy, they trust each other one hundred percent and tell each other everything," Santana says.

"Yea, Mallory's really cool minded and easy going. You know if you weren't in love with her husband, you two could actually be friends," Brittany says looking at Santana who nods in agreement.

"Wait, how do you guys know so much about their relationship?" I ask them confused.

Both their cheeks turn pink, "she's really nice, and well, she's kind of our friend," Brittany says hesitantly.

"You're friends with her?" I ask with skepticism. "I feel so left out about all of this." I say after a while.

"Look Q, her and Sam are in a good place and their both very happy, I know this is not what you want to hear but you can't do anything stupid that could ruin a perfect marriage," Santana says, good-heartedly, Brittany nods in agreement.

I know she's right, I can't ruin their marriage. I know what its like to have a marriage be ruined by another woman that happened with my parents. My parents weren't right for each other, but maybe they could've been of that tattooed freak hadn't corrupted my father. And as I hear of it Sam and Mallory are perfect for each other, I can't ruin that. And if Sam really does love Mallory the way it seems like he does, he wouldn't let me ruin their marriage, but these things can break apart so easily.

I nod, "you guys are right, I'm just going to be friends with him and that's going to be all, no more, just closure as friends" I say truthfully. Nothing's going to happen between me and Sam and I'm sure that he wasn't going to let anything happen either.

"So how do I start being his friend?" I ask my best friends who smile like they already have an idea.

"We thought you'd never ask," says Brittany with a wide grin.

Santana checks her phone, "ok, its 6:30, Sam should be at work by 7, and he needs someone to bring him coffee," Santana says.

"His receptionist usually does it but she's currently on vacation in Hawaii, so you should go give him coffee and talk to him while you're at it," Brittany says informatively.

I look at them, "how do you guys know so much about him?" I ask curiously, wondering if my best friends are secret stalkers.

"We listen when Mallory speaks," Santana says, getting up, "now come on, we got to get you all dolled up."

After several minutes of getting ready, I'm, "presentable" as Brittany and Santana says. "Why do I even need to look so great if I'm just going to be friends with Sam?" I ask Santana who is giving me a look over to make sure I'm perfect.

"Your gonna be his friend, but we was him to regret breaking up with you a little," Santana says, even though she was one of the contributing factors of him breaking up with me, but I can't blame her; she wasn't the one who made out with Finn behind Sam's back.'

"Yep," Brittany says while she finishes curling my hair, "ok, you looks perfect, Sam's gonna wish he had never broken up with you." I turn around and look at myself in the mirror.

I had to admit, I looked good. I was wearing a pair of designer skinny jeans and one of my own floral blouse designs. My hair was curled loosely at the bottom and I had just a light touch of makeup, because I knew that Sam was never one for that much makeup.

"You guys are the best," I say hugging them, "ok, it's almost 7, and I should go," I blow them a kiss, grabbing my purse and walking out of my apartment and towards the underground parking lot.

I am about to go talk to the man who I've been in love with for the past 7 years

**Please read the next one and review!**

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	3. Friends

**Ok, here's the last one for the moment, i'll upload the next one, once i'm finished writing it.**

I pull out the business card Sam gave me and start driving towards his office.

I get there just by 7; I had gotten 2 cups of coffee from a nearby Starbucks and started walking into the large hospital building. I walk to the front desk, where I'm greeted by a cheerful lady.

"Good morning miss, can I help you?" she asks me smiling brightly.

"Yes, I was wondering where I could find Dr. Sam Evans office," I ask sweetly, really wanting this lady to just tell me where his office was since his business card had left that one bit of information out.

"Are you a patient?" she asks looking me over.

"Uh, no. I'm a friend," I say as she looks at me with skepticism but eventually gives in.

"His office is located on the 13th floor, that's where the heart patients wing is, Dr. Evans' section should be just your left as you get off the elevator," I lady says and I nod, harnessing the information.

"Thank you," I say as I walk towards the elevators, coffee in hand.

After I get off on the 13th floor, I turn to my left and there it is, Dr. Sam Evans' quarters, as the sigh reads. I slowly open the glass door to the room to see that it's basically a mini hospital. There are patients being catered around on beds and wheel chairs, and there are nurses walking around going to their assigned rooms. In front of me is a large class window of the skyline of Los Angeles, I have never seen such a beautiful view in my life. Beside me I see another door leading to a beautiful floral garden where Sam's patients are being wheeled around by family members or nurses.

I can't believe how wonderful his quarters are, on the far left wall there are various diploma's and awards that have been giving to Sam. I walk over to that wall; I find out that he graduated from Duke University and is one of the best heart surgeons in the country. I stare at the pictures of him accepting trophies, plaques and certificates; how did Sam Evans become this? I ask myself.

I eventually shake my head out of awe and walk towards the reception desk, where I'm greeted with a young lady.

"Good morning miss, how may I help you?" she asks just as cheerful as the lady at the information desk.

"Hi, I came here to see Dr. Evans," I say hoping she wouldn't ask as many questions as the first lady did.

"You went to high school with Dr. Evans, right? You were in glee club together" she asks me as realization fills her face.

"Um… yes, how did you know that?" I ask confused, I'm sure Sam hadn't talked about me, how did she know this?

"There's a group picture of his old glee club in his office, and I recognize you from it," says the receptionist looking at me like she knows I'm here to do something that I shouldn't be doing for a married man.

"Yea, we were good friends," I say hoping she didn't ask any more questions.

"You were more than that, you dated," she tells me, and I am shocked. Hoe the hell did she know this?

"Excuse me?" I ask

"In the picture he had his arms around you and you two had interlaced hands," she explains to me and gives me a pitiful look.

"Uh, yea, but we're good friends now," I lie hoping she couldn't tell.

She raises her eyebrows at me, and then finally nods. "Dr. Evans is seeing a patient right now, but you can wait in his office," she says pointing across the room towards a door with the blind pulled down. I walk into the room and immediately feel queasy being in Sam's office.

I walk around and notice a shelf full of picture frames; I walk to the shelf and see that most of them are of him and Mallory. Them on their wedding day, them in New York, them on the beach, her at a park, them in front of their house, them with some of their friends. It immediately makes me feel guilty for being here seeing their pictures.

I avert my eyes and find another picture; this one is of the glee club. It was taken when we had won sectionals, when Sam and I were still dating. There we were, as said by the receptionist, he had his arms around me and my head was on his shoulder, our hands intertwined. I smile at the picture and take a sip of my coffee remembering those happy memories of singing at sectionals; we were so in love.

My thoughts are interrupted by someone opening the door to the office; I hear is close and turn around. I clear my throat and Sam whips around alarmed but immediately smiles when he sees me.

"Oh, Quinn hey, I didn't see you there. No one told me I had a visitor. I have some time to kill, so…" Sam says sitting down at his desk and mentioning for me to sit down across from him.

I smile and sit, handing him his coffee. He smiles and takes it.

"Thanks, Quinn. So how can I help you, you don't have a problem with your heart or anything right?" he asks, his expression worried. I smile and shake my head, but I can feel my heart soaring; after all these years he still cares about me.

"No, I was just in the neighborhood getting some coffee and I remember reading on your card that your office was hear so I decided to bring you some coffee," I explain watching him sip the coffee.

"That was really nice of you Quinn, you know real my receptionist is on vacation and she's the one who usually gives me coffee in the morning," Sam says, smiling, his signature smile at me. I can feel my heart beating faster in my chest.

"Yeah, I guess I just wanted to know if Sam Evans was really a _heart surgeon_," I say laughing, Sam laughs too.

"Yeah, unexpected from my part, huh?" he says

"Yea, I feel like I don't even know you anymore Sam," I say hoping he didn't get the wrong idea, but Sam just smiled.

"High school was a long time ago, Quinn. People change," Sam tells me.

I nod at his words and take a sip of my coffee, but I'm really wondering about what he said. He was right; high school was a long time ago. I should be over him by now, but I'm just not. And people do change, I like to think that I changed since high school, but the only thing that really changed about me was my ambition to be a designer; nothing more. But Sam had completely changed; he was a different person now.

"Not as much as you," I say quietly, and Sam laughs.

"You're right, I guess. I mean my own parents didn't expect this out of me, all this." He says waving around gesturing to his office.

"And married too," I say bravely, just because that was eating up my mind for the past 3 days.

Sam smiled, "yea, married," he said looking at the picture of Mallory on his desk, "you know after high school, I never thought I was one for getting married, but then I met Mallory and everything changed." Sam smiled to himself as he ran his hand over Mallory's picture.

I force myself to smile, even though it's killing me inside. "How did you 2 meet anyways," I ask, wanting to know where that tramp had met my Sam.

"It was college," Sam starts, "I went to Duke, she was a journalism major, and I was in medical school there." He takes a sip of his coffee as he recalls meeting his current wife.

"I had overslept one day studying for an exam and I was late for class, so I was running down the quad and I ran right into her. She took my breath away, you know. I don't want to sound cheesy but it was kind of love at first sight," Sam continues smiling and I guilt in the pit of my stomach.

"She yelled at me though, told me to watch where I was going and stormed away. I apologized and just watched her leave. She was honestly the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, still is," Sam says taking a sip of his coffee.

I feel jealous, which is stupid because their married and me and him dated for like a few months in high school, but I recall when Sam had said I was beautiful. He had often said I was beautiful, but he had never said I 'was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.' He had said that I had looked beautiful, but the way he talked about Mallory made me green with envy.

Sam continues his memory, "the next few weeks I was just working up the courage to talk to her, and one day I was studying on one of the tables in the same quad, when I saw her yelling at her I guy to leave her alone, an ex-boyfriend who wouldn't leave her alone. The guy got a hold of her and was dragging her with him, and I knew I couldn't let that happen right under my nose, so I went after him and told him to leave her alone. He told me to get lost before he breaks my neck, and I punched him." Sam, absentmindedly balls his hands up into fists, recalling the memory. I smile, Sam was really sweet. He had done that for Kurt in high school; that was the reason I fell in love with him.

"He eventually let her go, and left. Mallory thanked me like a million times, and then said that I looked familiar. I told her that we had bumped into each other a few weeks ago at this very spot, she smiled and I thought my heart was literally melting. She was so gorgeous, and I walked her to her dorm and she said, 'Thank you for saving me out there Sam, I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there,' and then gave me a hug and kissed my cheek. I was practically flying when she did that and after she went in her room and closed her door I continued to stand there for a while just lost in my own little world, you know," Sam laughs at himself, and I smile because that is exactly how I feel about him.

"We became friends over the next few weeks, all my guy friends kept telling me that I was whipped with a girl that was wasn't even my girlfriend. I knew that I had to tell her that I was in love with her, but I knew that she was way too good for me. I mean she's smart, funny, nice, sweet, not to mention undyingly beautiful; there was barely a chance that I could get a girl like her; but then again I had gotten Quinn Fabray to go out with me,"' Sam says laughing, and I laugh too.

"I would think you could get any girl you wanted after you got through me," I say, only half joking.

"Yea, at first I was so nervous around her, but soon she became my best friend and I felt so comfortable around her. Guess 'I'm lucky to be in love with my best friend,'" Sam says smiling at me. I hate the fact that he references a song _me _and him sang, for how he felt about another girl, even if she was his wife; I fake smile.

"I eventually worked up the courage to ask her out and she said yes. And I guess everything happened from there," Sam says gazing at the pictures of Mallory on his picture shelf.

I looked down at her coffee, not knowing what to say. What am I supposed to say, 'oh congratulations, that's wonderful?' that is not what I want to say, but I couldn't tell him that I'm still in love with him, so I say the first thing that comes into my mind.

"Do you love her," I ask. Sam averts his eyes from the shelf to me, as if he had totally forgotten that I was even here.

Sam nods, "more than anything," he says, "she was the only girl I ever really loved," he tosses his empty coffee cup in the trash, "aside from you, of course," he adds somewhat hesitantly.

I'm at a loss for words again. Did he used to love me, the way he loves Mallory now? Does he still love me? Probably not, but a girl can hope. "She's really lucky, Sam," I say, somewhat blushing, "and so are you, I mean that you two have found each other. It's hard to come by true love these days," I quickly add seeing that my earlier word choice was a little too reveling.

Sam smiles at me, "thanks Quinn, but what about you? How've you changed since high school?" he asks me, obviously wanting to change the subject.

I think back to my time after he left Lima, it was obviously pure hell senior year without him, but I want going to tell him that. I decide to keep it short and understandable. "Oh, well, I haven't changed as much as you, but after high school I went to UCLA," I say pointing behind him to the large class window, where the campus of UCLA is, seeing as the hospital is located on campus. "I decided to pursue a career in design, I knew it would be hard, but I had to try. I made my first design during the senior year of college and luckily a fashion magazine had come across it and thought it was brilliant. So, that basically how I got here today; I love designing it so much fun." I say finishing my coffee and throwing it away in the Sam trash can Sam had thrown his away.

Sam smiles at me, "that's great Quinn. I'm really happy you found I career that you love so much," he says, folding his fingers on top of the table.

I smile back, "what about you huh? How did you become a doctor?" I ask

"Oh, well aside from the 7 years of medical school, one day during senior year in my dad had a heart attack," Sam says thinking hard trying to recall the memory, "thankfully the doctor was able to save him before he died, and I felt so happy that he was there to save my dad. I was inspired you know, I wanted to be like him, a cardiologist, so I decided to go to Duke. My grades improved a lot senior year, so I got in, but just barely. I went to medical school there, and that's all really," Sam says pointing to the picture on his shelf of him in a blue gown and cap, receiving his diploma from an elderly man.

I smile at the picture, "that's great Sam," I say.

He nods, "so, you haven't found the right guy yet huh?" he asks after a few moments.

I want to say, 'yea I did, and it was you, but I was just too stupid to realize it back then,' but instead I say, "no, not really, I decent guy is hard to come by these days," I shrug.

Sam laughs, "there's someone for everyone Quinn, I'm sure you'll find the right guy some day," he says philosophically.

I smile, "thanks," I say, even though I know I'll never find I guy better than him.

Sam smiles back, "I'm really glad we got to see each other and catch up, Quinn," he says, "it's always nice to have a friend that knew you back then."

I nod, "yea, me too," I say

"You know Brittany and Santana are in town too, they work with Mallory at the LA Times, you 3 should really get together some time," he says, I smile at his cluelessness,

"Actually Brittany, Santana, and I all went to college together. We're best friends," I say watching comprehension finally surround his face.

"Oh, really?" he says chuckling at himself, "Brittany and Santana never mentioned you also being in town."

"They probably forgot to tell you," I lie, because I know they did it to protect me.

Just then Sam's work phone rings. He reaches over and answers it, "yes? ... Oh already? … yes I'll be right there… ok thank you," Sam hangs up the phone and turns to me.

"I would love to stay her and catch up with you all day Quinn, but I have to go perform surgery on a patient," he says standing up, I stand too.

Sam walks around the table and gives me a light hug; he pulls away after about 3 seconds, "I'm really happy that we're friends Quinn," Sam says smiling.

Friends. Yes, we're friends, and that's what I wanted when I came here, to be his friend. But using Sam in the term of "friend" doesn't really feel right. "Me too," I say. We walk out of his office together and he kisses my cheek as we are about to part ways.

"See you later, Quinn," he says smiling before walking towards the opposite direction.

I just stand there paralyzed, still haunted by the feeling of his lips on my skin. They felt so soft and warm, people always made fun of his lips in high school but I always liked his lips. They're like magic when they kiss you, and I also find them quite sexy. I quickly pull myself together and walk out of the hospital.

Yes, Sam Evans and I were friends, but it seemed like so much more.

**How was it? Love it? Hate it? i just wanna say that i'm totally against going after a married person, its wrong and it shouldn't be done. but this is fiction of course.**

**Make sure to review! If you have any suggestions let me know. tell me if i should continue, or if its stupid.**

**R&R**


	4. Memories and Problems

**Ok, this chapter is pretty much a filler, but it explains a lot. btw, I'm am like over the top excited that Chord Overstreet is coming back to Glee! When I first heard the news i literally screamed and started jumping for joy! :) I mean the show was stupid without Cam.**

Sam's POV

"Morning, Dr. Evans," says one of the writers as I make my way over to Mallory's office.

"Morning," I say politely, and continue to walk towards my wife's office. I make it soon, and see her talking to one of the young male interns. She is laughing at something that he had said, and he's looking at her the way someone shouldn't look at a married women like. I felt jealously burn inside of me; I walk over to Mallory and wrap my arms around her waist from the behind.

She gives a small yelp and turns around to see me; she smiles at me. "Sam," she says pecking my lips, "what are you doing here?" she puts her arms around my neck, I look over at the intern who is looking at us with envy and is still standing there awkwardly.

"I didn't have any more appointments for the rest of the day, and I decided I really wanted to see your beautiful face so I stopped by," I say running my fingers through Mallory's soft, luscious hair.

She smiles at me and gives me a short chaste kiss. "Sorry, I can't do more, don't want to make them jealous," she whispers in my ear, I give a small chuckle and point to the intern who is still standing here. Talk about desperate.

Mallory turns around, and looks at the intern, I can't see her face, but I see the interns face flood with understanding and he gives a small nod, which would be missed if I had blinked, but I hadn't. "Oh, this is Nate, he's an intern here. Nate was just showing me his idea for a new story, isn't that right Nate," Nate gives a small nod, and holds out his hand.

"You must be Dr. Evans," Nate says to me, I hesitantly shake his hand, "Mallory's husband," he adds softly. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mallory glaring daggers at him. I give a small nod, and retrieve my hand. "I should get going now," he says, he looks at Mallory one more time before leaving.

I immediately know something is up, "what was that all about," I say calmly not wanted to start a fight, but I'm somewhat skeptical.

"What are you talking about?" she asks walking around me and sitting down in her chair. I shake my head, because now I really know something is up. Mallory always knows what I'm talking about unless it is something that she feels guilty about or if it's something she doesn't want to tell me.

"That intern, Nate and you. Did you see the way he was looking at you?" I say, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible, "I could sense something was up between you two."

Mallory shakes he head and starts playing with her wedding band, something she does when she's either nervous or not telling the truth. When you love someone as much as I love Mallory, you notice little things like this. "He was looking at me normally Sam, and nothing is 'up' between us, we were just talking about his new story idea that's all," she says quickly, I know she's lying, but I don't want her to think I don't trust her, but I thought that we had a tell all policy in our marriage.

"Are you sure?" I ask, mostly because I don't want to tell her that I think she's lying, Mallory is big on trust and at this moment I really don't think I trust her, no I trust her, I just don't trust the intern.

"Yes, Sam," she says annoyed with me, I can tell she's not her usual happy, cheerful self today.

I sit down on a chair on the other side of her desk; I reach out my hand and put it over hers. "Baby, is everything okay?" I ask watching her as she looks at our hands.

She puts her other hand over our hands and rubs her thumb against my knuckles. "I don't feel so well Sam," she says, I am instantly worried.

"What do you mean, are you sick, tell me what's wrong baby, we'll take care of it, I promise," I say studying her face for any signs of pain. She smiles at me and squeezes my hand.

"It's better now," she says, but I know that she still doesn't feel great. My earlier skepticism is immediately forgotten, my wife doesn't feel good, and as her husband it's my job to make sure that never happens.

"Come here," I say opening my arms for her, Mallory smiles, gets up from her chair and settles into my lap. She rests her head on my shoulder as I rub her back. Mallory sighs, nuzzling her face deeper into the crook of my neck. Out of the corner of my eye I see Nate, the intern, looking at us, through the window of Mallory's office. He looks, almost… guilty. Why does he look guilty? I look down at Mallory; know that I think of it, she looked somewhat guilty too earlier.

Mallory kisses my neck, "I love you," she whispers, before closing her eyes, encircled in my embrace. I feel the odd urge to respond with something other than 'I love you too', something is definitely going on, and Mallory's not telling me. Its not that I don't love her anymore, that would be next to impossible to happen, but when you say 'I love you' it means that everything's ok, and everything was definitely not okay. I feel her tense up, I know she was expecting me to say, 'I love you too' and now that I haven't she knows something's wrong with e. damn it, Sam! Now she'll ask what's wrong and I'll have to tell her, because I don't lie to my wife.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asks rubbing my cheek affectionately. I give her a small smile, and then a sigh.

"Mallory, there's something you're not telling me," I say rubbing her thigh, "I know you and I know when your hiding something, and I just don't feel like a good husband if you have to hide something from me." the way to get Mallory to talk is to make soften her up, and make her feel a bit guilty.

"No, no, Sam. You're a wonderful husband, the best ever. Don't you ever think otherwise," she wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me tightly; it's almost like she doesn't want me to go.

I feel a small smile tug at my lips when she says this, but I keep my face neutral, "that's a little hard to consider, since I know that my wife is not telling me something."

Mallory sighs, "its just, Nate, he's been trying to flirt with me for a while now, and I keep telling him that I'm happily married, with the best husband in the world," she quickly pecks my lips, "but he's just having trouble excepting that I guess." Mallory fiddles with the collar of my shirt, not meeting my eyes.

"He's bothering you?" I ask, and she nods. "Well, I Can take care of that," I say pushing her off my lap so I can stand up and scare the living shit out of that dude, until he leaves my wife alone.

"No, no, Sam, please sit down," she says pulling me down and sitting on my lap, "he was acting weird earlier because I said that he is now to report to Mr. Madison, the editor of the business section of the Times, not me anymore. I had him changed because I didn't want to deal with him anymore." Mallory rubs my tense shoulders soothingly, trying to get me to calm down.

I sigh, "why were you so against telling me this?" I ask looking out side to make sure that Nate is no longer staring at us.

"Because I knew you'd get all worked up, I didn't want that because, its nothing Sam," she reassures me, "he just has a crush, that's all. And I can assure you that I definitely do not feel the same way," Mallory kisses me passionately, her tough dancing across my lower lip, before she pulls away teasingly.

"And that's all?" I ask, really wanting to let this topic pass us by, but at the same time wanting to know the truth.

"Mmhm," she says nodding and biting her lip, she usually does that when she wants me to kiss her. I smile and lean down to capture her lips in mine; Mallory giggles against my mouth and puts a hand on the nape of my neck pulling me closer. I put my hands on her thighs squeezing them gently, I feel the bulge in my pants growing slightly, when I out my hand under her shirt, Mallory pulls away giggling at me.

"Sam!" she gasps, "we can't do that in my office." I just smile and start kissing at her neck, sucking lightly, she lets out a soft moan and I smile against her skin.

"Why not? It's not like we haven't done it in your office before," I say against soft, supple skin, Mallory just sighs and starts unbuttoning my shirt when all of a sudden, Nate, the stupid intern who is lusting after my wife walks in, without knocking!

Mallory and I quickly try to untangle ourselves from one another, "Oh, I… uh…I'm, uh, sorry…um. Santana just wanted me to drop this off to you…uh… I should have knocked…I'm really sorry," Nate stammers, putting the papers on the chair beside the door and quickly walking out, shutting the door.

Mallory just laughs, before getting off my lap, "well, that definitely went better the first time," she says starting to walk to her desk, I groan and she laughs again.

"I really don't like that guy," I say glaring at the direction he had just went, Mallory just chuckled.

"We'll save that for later, but right now I want to address a predicament with you," she says folding her hands on the table.

"Okay," I say slightly nervous about what she wants to talk to me about.

"Little birdie told me that Quinn Fabray was at your office this morning," she says looking at me interrogatingly.

"Uh, yea, she just came by to say hey and catch up, that's all," I say honestly, I mean nothing happened between me and Quinn. We were way back then; does Mallory honestly suspect something was going on?

"Is that all?" she asks, still like a grilling detective.

"Yes, gosh Mal, what do you think happened?" I ask, not really meaning to snap at her, but I was irritated that she thought that I was cheating when I say her laughing with a guy, who was undressing her with his eyes.

"I, uh…I don't know, its just she's you ex-girlfriend, and she's beautiful and all, and I don't know, she came by your office and I don't trust her, she didn't look happy when you told her you had I wife, and she's just so much prettier than me," Mallory says on the verge of tears.

Mallory used be super self-conscious in college, she had told me I was lying when I had told her she was beautiful and she was always comparing her self to other girls, but after we finished college and got engaged, she was starting to feel good about herself; she almost reminded me of Quinn in high school, how she always thought she looked fat or ugly after she had a baby sophomore year, but that one night I had erased all her doubts away with my lips.

_**Flashback**_

_Quinn and I were alone in my motel room of a home, my parents and siblings had gone to Columbus to visit an old friend and in search of a job. Quinn had come over, not knowing my siblings would be gone, so she didn't really need to stay and babysit. _

"_Thanks for coming by Quinn, but you can leave if you want to, I don't need any help babysitting myself," I say to lighten up the heavy mood in the room; this was the first time Quinn and I had been alone since we broke up. I see Quinn smile, that beautiful smile of hers. She was sitting on the small couch in the room, where I sleep on, and I was leaning against the door. _

"_My mom is gone for the weekend at some prestigious charity event and I don't like being all alone in my house, it makes me feel so alone" Quinn says biting her lip and looking down in her lap, "is it okay, if I just stay here for a little while?" I am taken aback, she wants to stay here? Of all the places she could go, she wants to stay here with me in this shabby motel room?_

"_Uh… why don't you go to Finn's? I'm sure he'd love to see you there," I say though it pains me to do so, why the hell is she even with that no good, son of a bitch? It's obvious that he wants Rachel, doesn't she see the way the looks at each other? She can't be that blind? Can she?_

"_I don't want to go to Finn's," Quinn says quietly, not looking at me. Why doesn't she go to her pathetic, two-timing boyfriend who claims he's in love with her? Because she knows he's a two timing, good for nothing, pathetic, son of a bitch who doesn't love her. "Do you not want me to be here?" she asks looking up at me._

_Is she kidding? Well, obviously not, she doesn't know that I'm head-over heals in love with her and that I would basically do anything she asks of me, that I never stopped loving her and that it pains me to see her with Finn every day; nope she doesn't know all of that._

"_I don't mind if you stay here, Quinn but I just don't understand why you would want to," I say truthfully, why would she want to stay here when she had a big house on Dudley Road that is nice and clean, not a heap of junk like what she's in know._

"_You're here," she answers simply, and I can feel my heart soaring in my rib cage; I know I'm making to much of it, she probably just said that because I'm the only one who is lame enough to be home on a Friday night._

"_Yeah, and that's why you shouldn't want to be here, I mean honestly doesn't my hair just send you weird vibes telling you that I'm a creep that you should stay away from?" I joke again trying to make her laugh, something that I haven't seen since we were dating._

_She gives a small chuckle, and I'll take it, its better then that frown she always wears on her face. "You're hair may be a little too long, but you're better then most people I know," she says, smiling at me before looking back down at her lap. Damn, could this night get anymore awkward? Maybe I should've just asked her to leave, that would save me some sanity. _

_I decide to get brave, I walk over and sit next to her on the couch, not to close, a respectable distance from her. She smiles at me, and I feel my heart melt, she is so beautiful, what the hell is wrong with Finn Hudson to not see what he has?_

"_So, uh, what do you want to do?" I ask her trying to clear the awkwardness in the room. At first she doesn't say anything, but then she turn towards me and reaches out, she puts a hand on mine._

"_How've you been Sam?" she asks, 'horrible, seeing you with that asshole,' I want to answer but I don't._

"_It's been ok, it could be better though," I say looking around the motel room. I see Quinn smiles, "how about you?" I ask and then I see tears welling up in her eyes in her eyes. "Oh gosh, Quinn I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. God I'm an idiot, I'm so sorry," I ramble, Quinn shakes her head and gives me a sad smile._

"_It's not your fault Sam? You didn't do anything wrong," she reassures me, she scoots over closer to me and I feel the urge to press my lips against her beautiful, soft lips, but I don't because a) she has a boyfriend, and b) I'm a coward._

"_We don't have to talk about this Quinn; do you want to watch a movie? I can order a pizza from the place where I work, if you want," I say, quickly adding the last part. I don't even care what we do; all I want is her with me. I know that I sound so damn cheesy, but I guess that's what love does to you._

"_I want to talk about it Sam, I screwed up, my entire life, I screwed up," she buries her face in her hand; I unconsciously move closer to her and put a hand on her arm._

"_What are you talking about?" I ask, totally confused about what she's talking about._

"_Us. I screwed us up Sam, and I never even apologized, I just avoided talking about it with you, because I didn't want you to hate me," she burst into tears and I'm at a loss of words. What can this possibly mean? Before I let myself get a little to hopeful, my words come back to me._

"_I could never hate you Quinn, I never have," I say reaching my hand out and whipping away her tears with my thumb._

"_I'm so sorry Sam," she whispers, she looks at me and throws her arms around me. I'm shocked but I immediately hug her back, rubbing her back, "it's ok, Q" I say to comfort her and at the same time I want her to let go of me because I don't trust myself to be this close to her. But she doesn't pull away, she wraps her arms around my neck tightly, I should push her away, tell her that she should leave, but I just stay paralyzed in her arms. _

_We stay like that for a while, I continue rubbing her back while she sobs into my neck, then after a while I hear her whisper, "I love you Sam," a freeze, but I don't think she notices it. She couldn't have possibly have said that. I must be hearing things, she doesn't love me. Why would she, why would any girl for that matter? I'm homeless, cheesy, dorky, and unpopular; why would she love me? I don't do anything, convinced that I just heard her in my head, but when she pulls away and looks at me I see the hurt in her eyes._

"_I knew it," she says getting up, within the blink of an eye. "I knew you didn't love me, I knew I shouldn't have told you, I knew it!" _

"_Wait, what?" I ask her, confused at what she just said; did she really say that she loves me?_

"_I told you I love you, and what do you do just sit there, no reaction no nothing, you played me Sam Evans!" she yells at me._

"_What are you talking about?" I ask getting up from the couch and standing in front of her._

"_After all those hours we spent taking care of your siblings and then you told me you didn't hate me, I thought I just thought that maybe, maybe you were feeling the same thing I was feeling, that maybe your heart was aching ever since you left me standing in that hallway, but of course not. I'm so stupid," Quinn says, she brushes past me and starts walking to the door. _

_Did she just say what I think she just said? I grab her elbow just as she's about to leave and spin her around. I cupped her cheek with my hand and I press my lips to hers gently, yet passionately. I've wanted to do that ever since we broke up; her lips just fit perfectly against mine. I felt Quinn's fingers tangle in my hair as she pulled me closer. _

_We both had to eventually pull away for air; I leaned my forehead against hers, "I love you too," I say, and I see her smile, she pulls me back to her again and crashes her lips to mine, in a hot, passionate kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and mine wrapped around her waist. It felt like nothing had ever been wrong, that we were always this perfect. That she wasn't currently with another guy and that I wasn't currently homeless, my life was content at this very moment. _

_When she started to unbutton my shirt, I had to literally pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I hesitantly pull away from Quinn and look at her with a confused expression on my face. _

"_What are you doing?" I ask breathlessly, Quinn smiles and strokes my cheek; she presses her lips to mine again briefly before pulling away._

"_I love you Sam Evans, and I want you," she says staring deep into my eyes, I feel myself getting lost into them, I just then recall her words, 'I want you'. I look down at the beautiful woman in my arms, do I want her? Hell, yeah I do! I've wanted her ever since I first laid eyes on her._

_I respond before she does, pulling her closer to me and kissing her again, she smiles against my lips and I pick her up, she wraps her legs around my waist. I feel drunk at this moment, unconscious of what I'm currently doing and who I'm currently doing it with. She quickly unbuttons my shirt, throwing it on the floor and pulling me closer. _

_My mind isn't really working at this point, I'm just lost in the sweet taste of her lips, I can feel my pants begin to tighten around my erection, I know that I won't be able to stop tonight, and I hope I won't need to. I push Quinn against the door and begin kissing her neck, sucking roughly; I hear her moan and I smile against her soft, delicious skin. I let her feet return to the ground but I don't stop kissing her, I kiss her collar bone sloppily as Quinn whimpers and moans every now and then. I remove her sweater and throw it on the floor, with my shirt._

_I feel her running her hand down my chest, over my abs, her nails grazing my hot skin ever so slightly. I mentally laugh; I remember all the pressure I face for looking good for Quinn, I worked out like I maniac, sure I still do, but not as much. I wanted to be good for her, I wanted her to be proud to have me as her boyfriend, I didn't want her ever to regret giving me a chance with her, probably the best chance I had ever gotten._

_Loosing her was probably the hardest thing that has ever happened to me, yeah my parents lost their jobs, and I had to move schools, and yeah I have dyslexia and I'm not so great in school; but loosing her was the definitely the hardest thing I had ever had to go through. _

"_Sam…" Quinn whispers breathlessly, as I continue to kiss at her neck, "the bed…" I automatically nod, we should take this to the bed; I lift her up again and feel her thread her legs around my waist. I carefully walk over to the bed and lay her down on the sheets gently._

_I look down at her, yes, she is fully clothed, but I still feel my self getting harder just by looking at her. Quinn giggles, and I look at her; she is staring at the growing bulge in my pants. I blush and ease my self on top of her, positioning myself over her; holding myself up with my hands, legs tangle with hers. I lean down and press my lips to her gently; Quinn immediately deepens it, her tongue battling mine for dominance._

_She flips us around, so that now she's on top straddling me. "I love you," she whispers, before pressing her lips to mine again; her tongue circling around mine. I feel her move her hands down to my hips; unbuckling my belt. My hands are going under the hem of her dress, I rest my hands on her thighs, squeezing gently, my cock getting harder and harder, I instinctively reach my hand around her back and grasp the zipper of her dress, I'm about to tug it down before she pulls away._

_I look at Quinn, she has tears in her eyes again, and she is shaking her head furiously. Maybe she realizes that she doesn't want to do this, I feel stupid for even thinking that she would actually want me. I stare at her for a while and then I take her face in my hands and wipe away her tears. _

"_I'm sorry, it's okay, I'll take you home if you want to go; I'm so sorry," I say, sitting up so she was now in my lap, I gently try to get her off my lap but she just wraps her arms around my neck tightly, and holds on to me._

"_I want you Sam, I really do, but I doubt that you want me," she whispers against my neck. Was she for real? Was she telling me that _I_ didn't want her? That I didn't _want _Quinn Fabray_? _The girl that I've been in love with ever since I laid my eyes on her? Was she out of her mind? _

"_What are you talking about" I ask, rubbing her back as she cries into my chest, "of course I want you."_

_She shakes her head, "I used to be, but after- after Beth, I'm a wreck," Quinn sobs. I immediately understand, her body, she's self conscious about her body; her body that is now scarred after carrying a baby. I guess I've never really thought about this, never really thought about Quinn's body after carrying a baby. I knew she couldn't be any less perfect then she already was, I lean forwards and kiss her on the lips. _

"_Quinn Fabray, you're the most beautiful women I've ever seen, you're perfect in every way, and I love you," I say staring deep into her beautiful eyes._

_She smiles at me, a beautiful, heart breaking smile. She leans forward and kisses me passionately, "loosing you was the biggest mistake I've ever made," she said against my lips, pushing me back on my back and straddling me. After a few more minutes of kissing, I decide to go for the zipper of her dress again. This time she doesn't hesitate, she lets me take the dress off of her; I stare at her, she is truly beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, she was perfect, flawless, sure there where this silvery stretch marks on her stomach, but I couldn't imagine a more beautiful woman._

"_You're so beautiful," I say, she just looks at me, studying my face but when she realizes that I'm not lying, she breaks out in a huge smile. I smile back and lean down to kiss her neck, making my way down to her collarbone, her breasts. _

_We continued to remove each other's clothing, and soon only a layer of cotton separated us. "Are you sure?" I ask looking at her, into her eyes. _

_Quinn puts a hand on my cheek, "I've never been more sure, Sam," she whispered, leaning into kiss me. Quinn pulls down my boxers, and takes my member in her hand, stroking gently, she soon started pumping my cock and I knew I couldn't possibly get any harder; my cock was slick with pre-cum as she continued pumping it._

"_I want you in me Sam," she says low, and hoarse, "I want you to fuck me."_

_I don't need anymore encouragement; I pull out a condom from my removed pants and hand it to Quinn. She tears open the packet and gently puts in on me. I am hovering over her, I look down to Quinn and she gives a small nod, and I guide my member into her slowly. The next few moments are passionate, loving, wonderful; perfect. I barely knew what I was doing but my first time with Quinn was powerful, a poignant experience, full of ecstasy and love. When we came together, I never felt anything like it; it was all sex should be. I had just made love to the girl of my dreams. _

_After when we are both panting and exhausted from sex, Quinn turns on her side to look at me, "I love you, so much," she whispered._

_I turn towards her, and smile, "I love you too." _

I quickly shake my head, and chastise myself for thinking of that while I'm a married man. I was married, to the love of my life, and Quinn was just an old high school fling. I shouldn't be thinking of this, this was wrong, even just thinking about it; I felt guilty and blameworthy. Sure she was my first love, but our relationship now is totally plutonic. I mentally slap myself and come back to reality, where my wife is about to cry. I feel like an asshole, thinking about sex with another woman, when my wonderful, perfect wife is unhappy. My hear aches at the sight of her sad, it's my job to make sure she's happy, and if she's unhappy, especially because of me, I'm a terrible husband. As soon as I clear my head, I walk over to, a now sobbing, Mallory. I kneeled in front of her and took her face in my hands.

"Mallory Evans, you're my wife, and you're the most beautiful women I have ever seen, you're perfect in every way, and I love you," I say kissing her sweetly, she smiles at me and I smile back; but in my head I'm thinking back to the night where I had told Quinn Fabray these exact same words. I quickly shake that thought away too, shoving the memory in the back of my head; there's no need to address that now.

"You really mean that?" Mallory says in a low voice and I nod.

"I would never lie to you," I say feeling guiltier than ever about thinking about Quinn. I mentally tell myself to stop kicking myself, and turn my attention to Mallory. This isn't about you, you douchbag, this is about your wife who is crying now.

"Aww Mal, don't cry," I say as tears fall out of her beautiful blue eyes.

"I love you so much," she says taking my face in her hands and rubbing her thumb over my cheek. I force myself not to think of Quinn when she said these same words to me.

"I love you too," I say before kissing her softly, "hey, let's get out of here; I want to take you home."

She smiles, and nods, letting me lead her out of the chair and out of her office. I put my arm around her protectively, I might have been thinking about Quinn Fabray a few minutes ago, but there was no one I love more at this moment in time than my wife, Mallory Elizabeth Evans.

… Right?

**So how was it? tell me what you think. and i'll update the next one as soon as i get 5 more reviews.**

**R&R**


	5. I Know

"Sam!" Mallory yells at me from our bathroom while I made coffee in the kitchen.

"What?" I yell back continuing to brew my coffee, Monday mornings were always tiring and a perfect cup of coffee was the only way I could stay awake. Today was my day off and I should be sleeping in, but I have a work out routine to maintain.

"Come up here!" she yells, "please." I laugh and put my half made coffee down and walk upstairs to see my wife throwing up her breakfast into the toilet.

"Omigod," I say rushing over to her, rubbing her back and holding her hair. All the contents of what we just ate was being vomited in the toilet decomposed, it made me sick but I stood there anyways not wanting to be afraid of a little vomit. I'm a doctor for crying out loud! I deal with grosser stuff on a daily basis. Mallory finally finishes throwing up all the food in her stomach and leans back into me, keeping her mouth closed. I smile because I know its so I don't smell her bad breath; we've been married for almost 1 year and she was still embarrassed about me smelling her bad breath.

"You okay, hon?" I ask continuing to rub her bug, I've never seen Mallory throw up like she had done today, and it scared me. What if something was wrong? I was a doctor I should be able to tell, but she didn't seem like she was sick or anything.

"Yea," she breathed leaning the back of her head against my shoulder, "I am now."

I smile, but somehow it feels half-hearted. Ever since that afternoon in Mallory's office, having flashback's of Quinn, my head has been messing with me. I feel dishonorable thinking about another woman that way, I want to kick myself, it's just so wrong. I'm not Quinn, I'm not a cheater, and nor will I ever be,

"You know I'm a doctor and all that, but I think you should go see one who knows what's gong on with you, I mean you don't look pretty good sweetie," I say turning her around gently and looking at her face. She gives me a mean look and I just laugh, "not that you don't look beautiful, you always do, it's just you don't look as radiant as you usual," another mean look, "I mean that's still more radiant than most of the woman on this planet, but since you're the most beautiful, you have a rep to keep up," I say kissing her hair.

This time she smiles, "nice save," she says before brushing her teeth and walking slowly towards the connected bedroom, me following after her. "But I don't think I need to go to a doctor, I mean there was just probably something in the eggs I had this morning or maybe it was from the bacon that you were eating, that was disgusting," she says before laying down on her side of the bed looking at me, I chuckle, Mallory hates bacon, like really hates it, she even hates when I eat it but this morning I just really wanted some bacon and since I was cooking I think that I deserved to eat it. The concept of bacon reminds me of Quinn, how she loved bacon so much. How I was hooked to it ever since falling in love with her in high school. I mentally smack myself again for thinking about Quinn; that's about five times this morning. I feel like such an ass hole.

"Are you just going to stand there daydreaming, or are you going to hold me?" Malory jokes from the bed, and I snap myself back to reality. I see her lying on the bed arms up for me to hold her. I smile and walk over to the bed and sit down on my side, putting my feet up and leaning my head and back against the headboard. Mallory rolls over and lays her head on my chest wrapping an arm around my waist, sighing contently. I wrap an arm around her waist and rub her back as closes her eyes.

We stay like that for a few minutes but I know she's not asleep because of the uneven breathing. "Baby, I really think you should go see a doctor," I say watching her smile turn into a frown.

She gives out a sigh, "fine, you're a doctor and if you think I should, I probably should," she says sitting up and looking at me.

"That's right," I say pecking her lips, "if you want I can drive you." I really don't think driving will be the best thing for her at this point.

Mallory stands up and shakes her head, "gosh Sam, I'm not dying, and I can drive myself. I also need to stop my the office, Brittany wanted to talk to me about something," she says pulling a sweatshirt over her tank top and lacing up her tennis shoes under her sweat pants. "And then maybe I'll get some exercise in the gym," she says walking over to the mirror attached to the dresser and doing her make up, I walk over to her and hug her from the back, while she applies makeup.

"The gym, really? Aren't you sick?" I ask, leaning my chin on her shoulder.

Mallory scoffs, "Sam, I'm not sick, I'll still go the doctor because you want me to, but I'm fine, really," she turns around and puts a hand on my chest trying to reassure me but I'm still skeptical, she doesn't look fine. "I'm just going to run a few errands afterwards, kay?" she pecks my lips before I can say anything and then walks to the door, I follow her.

"Be careful okay," I say leaning against the door, she turns around and smiles at me before leaning up and giving me a long, sweet kiss.

"You're so sweet," she says, "I promise I'll be alright," she kisses me one more time. "Love you!" she says before making her way down the stairs.

"Love you too," I say back before going down stairs and finishing making my coffee, making sure it's perfect and worrying about Mallory. And then that thing I shut out of my mind, that thing that I didn't want to think about, that this that made me feel guilty…Quinn… it all came rushing back in my mind, even when I was making coffee, I was remembering the time she had brought me coffee in my office a few days ago, a little similarity like that, and she comes rushing into my mind. What the hell is wrong with me? I sigh and continue to make my coffee, trying my best to keep my mind form thinking of Quinn… has anything I've ever done been harder? Yes, breaking up with her was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. No, moving away from her was. Urgg! Snap out of it Sam! Stop being an asshole! I mentally slap myself about 5 times before I give up. There was no way Quinn Fabray was coming out of my mind at the moment.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

I know this is wrong, that I shouldn't be doing this but I just can't help it. I sigh, and open the doors to the headquarters of the Los Angeles Times. Here goes nothing.

At first I just wanted to stop by and say hey to Brit and San but then I realized that Sam's wife, Mallory, also worked here, under the same branch too. Hell, she was the editor-in-chief of the entire _Fashion and Entertainment_ section! Maybe if I see her, I'll just stop and say hi, but that's it, I will not strangle her or run her over with my car. No, I'm a good girl, who's in love with her husband. I will not resort to violence, even though I want to wipe away her existence, I will not go to prison for killing her.

I quietly laugh at myself. What the hell is wrong with me? Why the hell am I having thoughts to kill a living, breathing person? I mentally kick myself to stop thinking about that and just to go see Brittany and Santana and that's it. Since I've already made my way into the elevator, it's too late to turn back.

I step into the elevator and push 8, about to make my way to Brittany and Santana's office, which are right next to each other by the way, when I her somebody yell.

"Hold it please!" the woman yells, and I hold the door to the elevator with my hand. Yeah, I may be pissed off at the world right know, but I'm still an admirable citizen.

The woman rushes into the elevator, she's wearing Louis Vitton sweatpants and a sweatshirt, the hood hiding her hair, which I can make out as honey blonde, quite similar to mine.

"Thank you so much," she says turning to me and smiling, I smile back but my breath gets caught on my throat as I realize who's she really is. She doesn't seem to realize too, and her expression doesn't change at all. She looks like she's been crying, her eyes red and puffy; she has her head hung down looking at the floor as if she has just committed a terrible sin. She looks up and presses the 5 button on the elevator. I watch her, I know I have to say something, I don't want to say anything in fear that the wrong thing might come out, but I do; my big mouth couldn't stay closed.

"Good morning, Mallory," I say with a forced smile, which seem very hard to do, even though I've been putting on façades since I was a little girl.

"Quinn?" Mallory Evans says her eyes crawling over me, looking me up and down in distaste. She doesn't seem as in good spirits as she was in my boutique with Sam a week ago. The doors to the elevator close leaving me alone with the wife of the man I love.

She doesn't smile; she just looks at the light up, numbered floor buttons on the side of the elevator and looks at the lit up eight. She raises her eyebrows at me.

"I was going to visit some of my friends who work there," I say strongly, does she think she can mean girl her way into scaring me? Well, let me tell you something little Mallory, I'm the HBIC so don't you even think you can out scare me!

"Really? Who?" she says, like she's about to go and fire them but I know for a fact she can't fire Brit and San, they're the top journalists in this place.

"Brittany Pierce and Santana Lopez," I say without caution.

"Brittany and Santana are your friends?" she asks, spitting out the last word.

"Yes, they are actually. We've known each other ever since we were little, the best of friends actually," I say with a smirk, if this was going to be a contest of wits, I'm sure I already had her beat.

"Well, I never knew that," she says emphasizing the word 'that'.

"Yep," I say not knowing what else to say. The elevator is now on floor 3, slowly making its way up.

"Well, let me tell you something Missy," Mallory says turning to the side to face me, "leave my husband alone."

Those words shake me to my core, but I stand my ground, not letting her know that those words mean anything to me. "What are you talking about?" I ask casually like I have no idea what she's talking about, and I really don't know how she knows about what she's taking about.

"Oh, don't play dumb," she says to me, her words like venom and her eyes like dark vicious bugs, "I know that you went to visit him at his office the other day, and because he felt pity for you, he actually talked to you," she spits out the words at me.

"I was going there to say hi," I say not letting her words get to me, "but I can understand why you would be intimidated." There, now we're in dangerous territory.

"Excuse me?" she spats at me, "why in the world would I be intimidated of _you_? You're just a middle class wanna be designer, even though you make trash. Remember the time I said I loved your work? Well, I lied, your work is shit, now tell me why _I_ would be intimidated of that?"

"Well, maybe because I was your husband's first love and the woman he lost his virginity to," there, I said it; the words I've been holding back, I knew they were like knives in her chest.

"That was a long time ago," she says quietly, probably hurt from my words, but I could care less. Who did she think she was talking to me that way? Being all happy and loving around Sam, while really being a coldhearted bitch.

"Don't worry; I'm not here to steal your husband. I, unlike you, have some moral value and I'm not gong to mess around with a married man," I speak the words that were the only thing stopping me from jumping on Sam the other day in his office, the curtains were down too, I could've done it.

Mallory doesn't say anything, she just looks straight ahead. The elevator finally stops on the fifth floor, she steps step off and she turns away from me, walking away.

I look at her confused, why is she getting off on the fifth floor? The Fashion and Entertainment Section is on the eighth floor. That's where she works, so what is she doing on the fifth floor? Being as sneaky as I can, I quietly step off the elevator on the fifth floor following Mallory Evans.

I tip toe behind her, occasionally hiding behind something so she won't catch me following her. I feel like I'm in some sort of mystery, romantic chic flick; following the woman of the man I love around, trying to find out her secrets. We are walking through an empty work area, the office seem surprisingly empty today, fortunately for me.

Mallory stops at a certain cubical and puts her hands on her hips looking down at the person in the cubical in a distasteful look. I make my way across the room to have a better look at who she's looking at.

It's a young man, about six feet, short brown hair with blonde streaks, he's wearing a baby blue sweater with a pink dress shirt sticking out from the bottom, and its collar out from the top; he's quite good looking too. The man stands up as soon as he sees her.

"Mallory," he says looking her over, "are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned for her.

Mallory shakes her head and starts crying, "Nate, I'm ruined," she says and he looks at her with a confused look. I feel so smart for deciding to follow her, something is going on and I want to know what. Why is she ruined? And why is she telling this guy, Nate, that? Who is he to her?

"What are you talking about Mal?" he says, he looks around and I quickly duck behind a desk, hoping I hadn't got caught. I don't think I have so I look back up, and my eyes almost pop out of my head when I see this.

Nate has his arms wrapped around Mallory and she's cry profusely into his neck. He is rubbing her back affectionately and he is leaning down every so often to kiss her hair. I can't believe it; is she cheating on _Sam_? Perfect, sexy, wonderful Sam? Maybe he's just her brother or cousin or something, I reassure myself not trying to get my hopes up. What I hear next is about to determine everything.

"I'm pregnant Nate," Mallory says pulling away from, but still holding him; she is looking at him in such an intensity I feel obligated to think something more is going on.

And the way his eyes get wide makes my suspicion greater. "Wh-what?" he stutters, a shocked expression on his face.

"I'm pregnant Nate," she repeats, more tears falling from her eyes. She hangs her had down, looking at the floor, her arms still around Nate. Nate seems to have composed himself and he takes several deep breaths, he rubs her back, closing his eyes for a moment then opening them again.

He looks around the room again, and again I duck down before his eyes catch me, this is way to interesting to be caught and not know what's going on. I mean she's pregnant, with Sam's baby. What could be horrible about that? I can't seem to find anything more perfect, any child of Sam's has to be perfect, even if it is with that evil witch.

"Who- who's the fa-father?" Nate asks after a few moments, and I again am shocked to my core. Who else would be the father other than Sam?

Mallory looks up at him, more tears, and whispers quietly, but not quiet enough that I wouldn't here, "you."

And then I really feel like I couldn't get anymore shocked. Sam wasn't the father? She was having an affair with this guy named Nate? What the hell is going on? I make sure my ears aren't deceiving me and continue to listen closely to the conversation going on.

"How do you know? Nate asks his voice slightly shaking, though I can tell he's trying to be strong.

"I did a test," she says holding up an opened envelope and handing it to Nate. Nate seems hesitant but he takes the envelope and reads the paper in side of it slowly and carefully. I see his eyes darting down every line of the paper, stuck on ever word. He gulps when his eyes reach the bottom of the paper, probably when it says that he is the father of the baby.

Neither of them says anything for a while. They just stand there, not looking at anything, not touching each other, barely even breathing. After about five minutes of silence, Nate hugs Mallory, tightly, embracing every inch of her.

"It's going to be okay, I'm going to take care of you even if he doesn't," Nate says and I immediately know he's referring to Sam.

"No," Mallory says pulling away from him, standing a safe distance away, " I'm going to tell Sam that this is his baby, and you're not going to say otherwise, as far as everyone else is concerned you're just my former intern." As Mallory says this I can see Nate's expression turn form hurt to sorrow to anger.

"So you're just going to take our baby away from me," Nate says and it some how seems like déjà vu for me. I remember when I was pregnant sophomore year with Puck's baby while I should've been dating Finn.

Mallory gives him a look, the same look that I gave Puck when he said he'd take care of _our_ baby, "this is not _our _baby," she says coldly, "it's _my_ baby, with Sam." I wince at how similar those words sound, it seems so cruel watching someone else say them, but when I said it I didn't think anything of it. I feel like such the coldhearted bitch now.

"Mallory…" Nate starts only to be cut of by Mallory.

"No," she says putting her hand up to stop him, "this is it between us, it's over, what used to be going on is now over," she says. I feel sick to my stomach as I hear her say that, I feel like I'm 16 again, that I'm in her shoes. We're more alike than I thought. In this situation she was me, and I was Rachel Berry, the girl who's in love with the man who's supposed to be the baby's father.

Mallory gives Nate one last look before walking away in the opposite direction, away from him and me. I see Nate slump down in his chair, his face buried in his hands; he looks so hurt, so… broken. Was that how Puck was like after I did that to him? No, probably not. Puck was probably fucking some girl in the janitor's closet after I told him.

I shake away the thought of Puck, Beth and sophomore year from my head and quietly walk back to the elevator, getting on and pressing the eight button. The elevator door's close and I'm left with the same question I had when I started my day off, although the circumstances are very different. What the hell am I going to do?

_SQ_

"Quinn!" Brittany says hugging me as I knock on her office door, in which Santana is there also.

I laugh, "hey, Britt," I say hugging her back. Santana just roils her eyes playfully and Brittany releases me, sitting back down in her chair, on the other side of the table than Santana. I sit beside Santana and cross my legs, putting a smile on my face although I am heavily conflicted with the current situation that was pestering my mind.

"Hey Q," Santana says sipping her coffee and smiling at me, "what are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing," I say, I really don't know whither or not to tell them, they'd probably think I was crazy, "just stopping by to say hey to my best friends, that's all." I hope my voice and face aren't giving away the fact that I'm lying.

"Mallory was supposed to be here, I have to show her something," Brittany said, clicking on the mouse on her computer and typing a few words before lacing her fingers together, her elbows pressing on the table and her chin resting on her interlaced hands.

"She's probably with Nate," Santana says smirking, I look over at her. Nate… the guy Mallory's having an affair with, the guy whose baby she's carrying.

"Who's Nate?" I say casually trying to find out more about this guy.

"Oh, he's an intern from USC," Brittany says, reaching down and taking out her laptop from a bag and opening it oh her desk, typing something on it, not really paying attention to the conversation.

"Then why would Mallory be with him?" I ask making sure my voice and expression are perfectly normal, even though I know something too big to process.

"Because he's in love with her," Santana says her voice humorous, "even though she's married."

"And she has a thing for him too," Brittany says looking up from her computer and looking at me and Santana, "which is confusing, I mean she's married to Sam! Sure Nate's kind of cute, but have you seen Sam? He's so much hotter." Brittany says looking at me and Santana glares at her.

"Brit!" Santana screeches, "Quinn is right here." Santana turns to me, "we're sorry Q," she says reaching over and rubbing my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Brittany says looking down at her hands, I just shake my head. Usually this type of thing would bother me, but because of the recent events and news I encountered, I just shake it off.

"It's okay Brit," I say reassuring my blonde friend, "I'm fine."

Santana nods, "let's not talk about this anymore," she suggests putting her coffee mug on the table.

"No, I want to learn about Mallory and Nate," I say realizing I sound a little too eager, "I'm always up for some gossip." I quickly fix myself with a laugh and they laugh too. 

"It's not much gossip," Brittany says, "it's just the way he looks at her, Sam doesn't even look at her like that, I mean the last time I saw someone look at someone else that way was…" Brittany stops in mid sentence looking guilty and looking down at her computer screen, not wanting to be asked what she was going to say.

I look over at Santana and she looks guilty too, looking down at her hands, playing with her nails. I look back from Brittany to Santana, they're not telling me something, just like the time they were hiding the fact that Mallory was their boss.

"What is it?" I say with a sigh, indicating that I don't even want to hear their lame excuses of a cover up.

Santana sighs too, "it's really nothing Quinn, nothing worth hearing," she says looking at Brittany who nods.

"Yea, nothing that we should hang on over," Brittany says looking at me.

"Than why are you guys looking so guilty over it," I ask, wanting to know more than ever know. I hate it when I'm in the dark about something, that's why I hate surprises.

This time Brittany sighs, and looks over at Santana why just nods, telling her its okay.

"The last time I saw someone looking at someone else the way Nate looks at Mallory was the way Sam used to look at you," Brittany says looking down at her folded hands on the desk; Santana is also avoiding looking at me.

I feel many emotions, sad, angry, somewhat happy, and somewhat guilty. I don't know what to say, so I just sit there for a while, staring into space, letting my mind flood through the memories of Sam. I feel tears build up in my eyes after a while of walking down memory lane.

"Q?" Santana asks looking at me, I feel a small tear escape my eye and I quickly brush it away. I look up to see that both Santana and Brittany are looking at me worriedly. I quickly shake my head of all the reminiscences and look at Santana and Brittany and force a small sad smile to my face, which is really the only thing I can manage right now.

I may have said all those things about being strong and not letting it get to me, but at this moment I can't. It's too much, when you're head over heels in love with someone, you can't let go of it that easily.

Santana is the first one to speak, "we're so sorry Quinn," she says.

"Its fine," I say, "I'm being stupid, and I shouldn't let little things like this get to me."

Brittany shakes her head, "no, Quinn you can let it get to you," she reassures me, "we know it's hard." Her voice of wisdom makes my smile; its rare Brittany ever says anything intelligent and you have to cherish those moments.

"Thanks guys," I say reaching over and hugging Santana and then Brittany. We spend the next hour talking about our lives, problems, and successes. I almost forget about Mallory, Nate and Sam, when Mallory lightly knocks on the office door before opening it.

All three of us look at the door and see Mallory from the door window, I feel queasy and lightheaded looking at her; her eyes piercing through the window and glaring at me.

Brittany stands up and answers the door for Mallory.

"Mallory, hi," she says with a smile, Mallory in, "I wanted to show you Oscar de la Renta's newest spring line, there saying it's going to be one of his best ever." Brittany pulls out a file from one of her drawers and hands it to Mallory, whose still glaring at me.

Mallory takes the file and starts going through the pictures and papers inside of it before turning to Brittany.

"I'll take a look at these a little closer Brittany, thanks," she says before turning to me and Santana, "Santana," she nods her head at Santana and smiles, then she looks at me, her look is somewhat tame, she nods her head at me before "Quinn." And with that she starts walking towards the door.

But before she leaves she turns around, "oh and Brittany, Santana, this year we're going to fashion week in Milan, last year we really missed out so I decided we're going this year," she says, I look at Brittany and Santana who can't hide their excitement.

"Seriously?" Santana says getting up from her chair, smiling from ear to ear.

Mallory nods and then smiles at Santana and Brittany; "Sorry for the short notice, but we're leaving tonight, we want to get there early so we can interview all the designers," she says and Brittany and Santana nod, Mallory smiles and leaves the room and walking to her office.

After she leaves Brittany and Santana squeal in excitement and start jumping up and down like they're teenagers. I smile at them but in my head I'm thinking why Mallory be traveling to Milan tonight if she's pregnant. Because she doesn't want to tell Sam, that's why. I listen Santana and Brittany talk about how they're going to interview the designers and what they're going to wear and nod every now and then, but what I'm really thinking about is what I'm going to do with this mammoth sized news I know?

Should I tell Sam? I mean I'm pretty sure the only reason Mallory's going to Milan is so she doesn't have to tell Sam. I feel sick to my stomach; all this is really stressing me out.

After listening to Brittany and Santana talk about Milan for a while I decide that I'm not going to tell Sam about Mallory. I'm not going to be Rachel Berry. I'm not going to ruin their marriage and I'm not going to ruin her life even more than in probably already is. I know what it's like, and I wouldn't ever do that, not even to my worst enemy.

"Quinn?" Brittany says breaking me from my thoughts, "did you hear what I just said? I asked you what questions designers don't want to be asked and since you're a designer I wanted your input?" I look at Brittany and then at Santana and smile.

"Don't ask them about their personal lives and I'm sure you'll be alright," I say channeling my inner reporter.

Brittany and Santana fall back into conversation about Milan after that and I listen this time, pushing the distractions to the back of my head.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

Baseball is the only thing that's on that I'm interested to even waste my time to watch today, I need something to keep my mind away from Quinn Fabray. I feel like I'm cheating, sometimes cheating isn't physical, it can just be the way someone feels or thinks and right now I feel like a dirty cheater. Thankfully the game has warded off the essence of Quinn form my mind for the time being.

I hear the front door close over the baseball game on TV. "Sam!" I hear Mallory yell, "I'm home."

"In here!" I call over to her and within a few seconds she takes a seat in my lap and starts kissing me. I'm somewhat surprised, but I immediately avert my attention from the game, much to my dismay it was bases loaded bottom of the ninth, and kiss her back. I eventually pull away from her because I need to know what's up since she's trying to eat my mouth. Mallory looks a bit disappointed and looks at me in confusion.

I laugh, "hello, to you too," I say pecking her lips lightly before pulling away, "how did the doctor's visit go?" I feel her tense up on top of me as I ask her and I immediately am worried.

If something's bothering her, she sure doesn't show it, with a smile on her face she shakes her head, "it went fine, turns out it was just a little food poisoning, the eggs this morning must've been bad or something," she says, she looks and sounds honest but I'm somewhat skeptical.

"That's all?" I ask, unsure of whether to believe her or not.

"Yes," she says laughing and kissing my nose, "there's also something else I have to tell you."

"Yeah?" I say hoping it isn't bad but by the look on Mallory's face it doesn't seem bad.

"The paper's sending us to Milan for Fashion Week!" she squeals hugging me tightly. Milan? As in Milan in Italy? Well dud Milan in Italy how many other Milans are there that would host a fashion week? She's going to be in Milan all by herself?

"Mi-Milan?" I manage to choke out and Mallory nods pulling away from me but her arms are still around my neck.

"Can you believe it?" she says, "Milan! Think about how amazing it'll be!" I can tell she's really excited, I mean a deaf man could tell how excited she is but I just can't think of her being so far away from me. We've never been apart before, sure she's gone to New York a few times and sometimes I went to San Francisco or San Diego to perform a few surgeries but Milan was half way across the world.

"Your going to be in Milan?" I ask, "all alone?" I know she can tell I'm cynical by how the look on her face changed from energized to poignant in less than 2 seconds.

"You're not happy for me," it's not a question, it's a statement that comes from her lips, she looks down at her hands, clearly hurt.

"No!" I say taking her hands and lifting her chin up to look at me, "I am happy for you," I kiss her lips gently, "so happy, but I guess I'm really going to miss you when you're in Milan." I say watching her smile, that beautiful smile.

"I'm going to miss you too," she says hugging me again, my arms wound up around her waist and I kiss her hair. She pulls away from me and smiles at me, I smile back.

"So, when are you going?" I ask rubbing her back.

She looks to some extent anxious to tell me but eventually sighs and says it, "tonight."

I stare at her for a while trying to process what she just said, it takes me a while and after I process it in my brain I try not to yell at her, I compose my self. Mallory seems to be searching my face for any sign of emotion, but I keep my face blank.

"Tonight?" I finally say looking at my watch; it was already 5 pm. Mallory nods before bringing her hands up to my face stroking my cheek.

"Are you mad?" she asks quietly. Mad? Am I mad? No I'm not mad? I'm terrified, my wife, my beautiful, vulnerable wife would be all alone in Milan, which was full of danger.

I take a few deep breaths before I answer her, "no, I'm not mad, this is all so… sudden," I say the right words, trying not to sound mad or terrified for that fact but calm.

"So, you're okay with this?" she asks and I, even though it's hesitant, nod my head forcing a smile on my face.

"Yes," I say hugging her, holding onto her for the few moments that I have, "who else is going?" if the Nate dude is going I'm going to have tell her bluntly no, she won't be able to go, I don't want to sound controlling or anything but there are some things that you just got to stop before something happens; not that I don't trust Mallory, I just don't trust him.

"Just me, Santana and Brittany," she says emphasizing the word 'just' knowing that I'm concerned. Santana and Brittany are ok, I mean I've known them since I was 17, and I'm sure they can take care of Mallory. I nod, not knowing what else to do; Mallory wraps her arms around me and presses her face into the crock of my neck, I warp my hands around her too and we just sit there together, not talking or doing anything.

I break the silence after quite a while, "when does your flight leave?" I ask unsure if whether or not she's asleep. Mallory buries her face further into my neck before answering.

"7:30," she says and I look down at my watch again, it was close to 5:30 and she still hadn't packed.

"Don't you need to pack?" I ask, "it's almost 5:30."

Mallory nods against my neck before whispering, "I'm tired, carry me?"

I smile and stand up, lifting her from the couch and carrying her towards the bedroom bridal style. Her face is still pressed into my neck when we get to the door of the bedroom, I gently open it any step inside, walking over to the bed, and setting her down on the bed. Mallory sighs and stands up walking towards the closet and coming out with 2 large suitcase.

I sit down on the bed and laugh at her suitcase. "Mal, how long are you going to be there for? I doubt your going to need as much as those bags hold," I say.

"1 month, Sam," she answers me setting both bags down and unzipping them, "that's a long time." She walks over to her closet and pulls out several dresses before stuffing them all in one of the bags. I sigh; this was going to take a while.

After about an hour of just packing, Mallory is finally done. Much to my surprise she has filled both bags to full capacity. Its 6:45 right now and we should get going to the airport since her flight leaves at 7:30.

Right now Mallory and I are lying on the bed both wrapped up in each other's arms. She is lying on top of me, her head against my chest, while I stroke her hair. Mallory looks up at the clock on the bedside table, before sitting up and straightening up her hair.

"Come on," she says standing up and offering me her hand, "I have to get to the airport now."

I sigh and get out of the bed taking her hand. "Okay," I say picking up the bags, "let's go."

I manage to make it down the stairs without tripping over the large bags in my hand. Mallory sits in the Escalade as I load the bags into the trunk of the car. After I do that, I go over to the driver's side of the car and get inside.

"You ready?" I ask looking at her after I start the engine; Mallory is gazing outside the windows into the night.

Mallory looks at me and gives me a small smile, before nodding and taking my hand in hers, intertwining them on her thigh. I rear the car out of the drive way and drive towards LAX with one hand, holding her hand with the other.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

"I can't believe you guys are leaving me all alone and going to Milan," I say to Brittany and Santana as we walk towards where their plane is boarding.

"Aww, don't worry Q," Brittany says giving me a side hug, "it's only for1 month."

"Yeah, and we'll call and text you," Santana says looking around for boarding gate 38A to Milan.

We finally make it to gate 38A and sit down on the chairs waiting for the plane to start boarding. Santana and Brittany are sitting across from me, while I sit in the edge of the seats, one seat away from two women speaking in fluent Italian. From the corner of my eye, I see Sam and Mallory making there way to the gate, hands entwined smiling and laughing at one another; I feel my heart ache watching them. I quickly turn my eyes away looking out the large widows to the large planes that are standing outside.

"Omigod its Mallory," Brittany says standing up and waving over to Mallory and Sam who start walking over to where we are sitting.

"Hey guys," Mallory says walking up to us, she has a wide smile and is even smiling at me, probably because Sam is right there.

"Hey, Mallory," Santana says before Sam sits down in the chair across from me. He smiles at me and I smile back feeling my heart beat increase in my chest, but it's soon torn apart when Mallory comes and sits on his lap. She wraps his arms around his neck and presses her face into his shoulder; Sam wraps his arms around her body kissing her hair.

I abruptly look away, hoping the plane would just board already. After several terrorizing minutes the flight attendant finally called the first and business class passengers to board.

"That's us," Santana says standing up with Brittany and me, I look over at Mallory and Sam, she seems to be crying into his neck while he rubs her back. I wonder if she's told him about her pregnancy, I mean people can be unpredictable, I came out and told Finn about me, but she's going to Milan so she probably didn't tell Sam yet.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Mallory cried her face still buried in his neck. I smile secretly to my self, the only reason she's being like this is because of the pregnancy hormones; they make you cry so damn much. Santana, Brittany and I move away from the couple, give them some privacy, but what a really want to do if rip them apart from each other.

"Aren't they so cute?" Brittany asks Santana as I look over at Sam and Mallory, Santana nods and looks at me.

"We should probably board," she says and I nod before pulling my tow best friends into an embrace.

"I'm really going to miss you guys," I say genuinely, Brittany and Santana are really the only friends I have in all of LA, "be safe okay?"

Brittany and Santana hug me back and both nod at the same time, "you take care of you self Q," Brittany says.

"Yeah, don't do anything stupid this month," Santana says after we pull away from our hug. I just nod and hug them one more time before they walk over to the gate and go through the entrance.

I look over at Mallory and Sam, who are now standing up and kissing passionately; I quickly turn away from them trying to calm my aching heart. They're married, they're allowed to kiss; I reassure myself.

"I'm going to miss you so much," I hear Sam say; I turn around and see them hugging one another.

"Me too," Mallory says before she pulls away from Sam, "I should probably go." Sam nods and kisses her again before she walks over to the gate and disappears into the entrance to the plane. I watch Sam watch her go. He stares for a while and soon a join him in staring at the gate. After a while I feel someone stand beside me.

I turn my head to the side to see that it's Sam who is smiling down at me, I smile back and this time the rapid beating of my heart is not interrupted. "It's going to be hard one moth without them," he says to me and I nod.

"Yeah," I say, and before I can stop myself, "Santana and Brittany are my only friends in LA." I'm still watching the entrance to the plane.

"I'm your friend," I hear Sam say after a while, I look up at my and he's smiling, I smile too, my heart practically soaring.

After a few minutes of just standing there I turn to Sam, "we probably look like a bunch of idiots standing her staring at the door," I say and Sam laughs.

"Yeah, we should probably leave," Sam says and I hide my disappointment and just nod, Sam turns to me, "you want to get something to eat? It's time for dinner and I'm starving, they have a really great restaurant nearby and I really don't want to go alone." Sam's looking at me, his face calm and friendly. I smile at him, trying not to show my excitement too much. He just asked me out! Well this is not a date but still a girl can hope!

"Yeah, sure I'd like that," I say and he smiles taking my hand and leading me out of the airport. I try to stop my furiously beating heart but ones again I am unsuccessful.


	6. Dinner

Sam's POV

Quinn and I walk out of the airport in silence.

"Did you bring your car here?" I ask her, turning my head to looks at her as he near the exit of the terminal. I dropped her hand after a short while, seeing that it was inappropriate for me to hold her hand.

"No, Santana drove me here in her car; I just thought I'd grab a cab home or something," she says looking at me.

"Oh," I say, suddenly it's gotten super awkward, "I could drive you home you know, after dinner." She smiles at me; I feel my heart melt at the beauty of her smile.

"Yeah," she says, "I'd like that." I smile wide and I take her hand again, leading her to the massive parking lot building, towards my car.

We eventually get there, it took a while to locate the car, sue my for not writing down where the car was parked, I never thought there could be more black Cadillac Escalades in one parking floor.

I walk Quinn to the passenger's seat of the car and open the door for her; it's completely out of habit, the whole gentleman open the door for her thing, but when she smiles, that beautiful, breathtaking smile at me and I'm glad I opened the door for her. As I walk to the driver's side of the car, I mentally kick myself for feeling this way. I'm married! Happily married in fact, what the hell am I doing?

I love _Valentino_, it's the best restaurant in LA and I really don't feel like going to my empty house and making dinner. So I asked Quinn to dinner? That's not a viable explanation but it's really the best I got.

I get into the drivers seat and drive to the restaurant which is on the outskirts of, a rather busy tonight, Santa Monica. The drives about 15 minuets and neither of us say anything, I play the radio to make the ride a little less awkward but it comes crashing down on my head when _Lucky _by Jason Mraz and Colbie Calliet starts playing. It was totally out of nowhere, there we were listening to some obscure Lady Gaga song, and then after its over the DJ announces that he wants to slow it down a little with one of the best love songs of the centaury and that's when _Lucky_ starts playing.

_Do you hear me? I'm takin to you_

_Across water, across the deep, blue ocean_

_Under the open sky_

_Oh my, baby I'm trying_

I look over at Quinn and see her smiling, looking out the window, her fingers drumming to the rhythm on her thigh.

_Boy I hear, in my dreams_

_I hear you whisper across the sea_

_I keep you with me in my heart _

_You make it easier when life gets hard_

It gets too much for me, the song it's too familiar, too hurtful, it means too much. I should turn it off right then and there but I don't. Instead I do something that astonishes both me and Quinn. I start singing along.

"_Lucky I'm in love with my best friend_

_Lucky to have been where I have been_

_Lucky to be coming home again"_

I start humming the cooing of the song while drumming my fingers along the starring wheel. I look over at Quinn when as I stop at a red light. She is looking at me, with a smile on her face.

"What?" I ask smiling back at her, "sing along."

Quinn laughs but sings along, I sing with her.

"_They don't know how long it takes_

_Waiting for a love like this_

_Every time we say goodbye_

_I wish we had one more kiss_

_I'll wait for you, I'll promise you, I will"_

We both laugh at the end of that line. I can't believe how easily our voices go together, even after 7 years, we both sound amazing together. Quinn looks at me and smiles; I give her a quick glance before returning my eyes to the road. She starts singing again, this time just by herself, her voice beautiful and elegant.

"_I'm… lucky I'm in love with my best friend_

_Lucky to have been where I have been_

_Lucky to be coming home again"_

"Come on Sam," she says and I chuckle starting to sing with her; no voices ever went better together.

"_Lucky we're in love in every way_

_Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed_

_Lucky to be coming home someday"_

I smile at her from the corner of my while we're stuck in traffic, the line moving an inch ever minute. We continue to sing our respective parts.

"_And so I'm sailing through the sea_

_To an island where we'll meet_

_You'll hear the music fill the air_

_I'll put a flower in your hair"_

Quinn giggles and sings her part.

"_Though the breezes through the trees_

_Move so pretty, you're all I see_

_As the world keep spinning round_

_You hold me right here right now"_

I turn the corner; we're just a few blocks away from the restaurant. Quinn and I belt out the last verse of the song together, in perfect harmony.

"_Lucky I'm in love with my best friend__  
><em>_Lucky to have been where I have been__  
><em>_Lucky to be coming home again__  
><em>_Lucky we're in love in every way__  
><em>_Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed__  
><em>_Lucky to be coming home someday_

_Ohhhohhhohhhohhohhohhhohh__  
><em>_"_

We both burst into laughter when we finish the song.

"We still got it," I say, "you know after 7 years, glee club is still with us." Quinn laughs again.

"Yeah," she says, the awkwardness has passed us and it's getting a whole lot easy to talk to her, "can you believe even after all these years, we still know this song like it was yesterday that we performed it in the duets competition?"

"It's crazy isn't it?" I say and I pull up in front of the restaurant and step out handing the valet the keys and going to the other side of the car and opening the door for Quinn. She smiles at me and takes my hand before stepping out of the tall car.

We walk into the elegant restaurant and I immediately feel underdressed, I'm wearing a pair of jeans with a creased blue dress shirt with a light, black jacket, all the men hear are wearing suits and ties. I look over at Quinn; she's wearing soft pink sun dress that ended right at her knees, with a white cardigan, she looks beautiful, so much more than any other women here wearing their fancy dresses and high heels. Snap out of it Sam! You can't be thinking of her that way, your married for crying out loud!

I quickly move my eyes from Quinn and I realize I'm still holding her hand, I immediately drop her hand and we start walking towards the maître, standing near the entrance at a podium.

"Welcome sir, madam," he says smiling at me and Quinn, "do you have a reservation?" Quinn looks at me and I smile at her and shake my head at him.

"No," I say and Quinn gives me a questioning look, "but I'm sure you can make an exception."

"I'm sorry sir, but without a reservation you can't-" the host starts but is interrupted by Mark Edger, whose mother I'd saved from a brutal heart attack.

"Sam!" Mark calls walking over to me, I smile as the maître and Quinn look at Mark questioningly.

"Hey, Mark how've you been?" I ask shaking his hand.

"Great how 'bout you Sam?" he asks, "how's the hospital?"

"Great," I say and he looks beside me at Quinn who still has a surprised expression on her face.

"Oh, this must be your wife," Mark says smiling at Quinn and extending his hand for her to shake it.

"I'm not his… wife," Quinn says hesitantly and shakes Marks hand.

"This is actually my friend Quinn," I say to Mark who eyeing Quinn up and down.

"Well, then are you single Quinn? Because you're quite a fine woman," Mark says still holding Quinn's hand. I feel a plague of jealously come through me; I look over at Quinn who is looking at me for help, which I'm more than happy to give.

"Actually Mark, Quinn and I are here for dinner, but it seems we've forgotten to make a reservation," I say looking at Mark who finally drops Quinn's hand.

"Oh, that's no excuse," Mark says and turns towards the still stunned maître, "I'm sure we have an empty table for two."

"Uh… yes, of course sir," he says, "right this way." He leads me and Quinn over to a table in the far corner of the restaurant.

I pull out a chair for Quinn and she smiles at me before sitting down. It might've been just a harmless friendly gesture but I feel like I asshole for just doing that. I sit down across from her and a young waiter comes up towards us and hands us two menus.

"Good evening, my name is Jason, and I'll be your waiter this evening," he says smiling at Quinn and the way he's looking at her makes me want to punch him. Two people so far have tried to hit on Quinn and we haven't even started dinner yet, I can't catch a break here. Its not like I should care, I'm happily married and I shouldn't be feeling this way.

"Here are your menus," he says pointing at the menus on the table, "what can I get you to drink?"

I look at the wine list and think about it for a while before answering, "" I say and look at Quinn, "is that okay?"

"Yes, that's… perfect," she says nervously and I smile; the waiter quickly jots that down onto his notepad and smiles at Quinn, he starts at her a little too long and is still not leaving.

Quinn looks uncomfortable and I glare at the waiter, "thank you," I say somewhat rudely, so much for a classy restaurant, don't they teach their waiters not to hit on women who are here with other men, even though I'm not with Quinn, its still disrespectful. But can I really blame them, I mean look at her, she's stunning. The waiter quickly walks away after that and I am left there to shake away my romantic thoughts towards Quinn, who's just supposed to be my friend; the wedding band on my left hand feels heavier than before.

Quinn just bursts out into laughter, her beautiful smile; she looks so gorgeous when she smiles.

"What," I ask laughter in my voice.

"That poor waiter," she says, "you sure gave him a scare, your glare can be quite intimidating."

I laugh, "yea, not as intimidating as your HBIC glare in high school though," I say and Quinn laughs, I smile at how easy it is to talk to her, talking to Mallory not as effortless as it is talking to Quinn.

"Probably not, but it's good for _you_," she says smiling at me and I smile back, I look over her shoulder to see Mark staring at us, most likely her, from a distance.

"Mark's staring at you," I say frowning a little bit. Quinn turns around and Mark smiles and waves.

Quinn laughs nervously, "how do you know him by the way?" she asks me while I look through the menu.

"Oh, I saved his mother's life," I say nonchalantly, "she had a heat attack, we all thought she wasn't going to make it, but I found a way, can't doubt the best right?" I grin at her.

Quinn laughs, "good thing you're modest," she says reaching for her menu and opening it. I look at her as she reads the menu, her eyes pop as she reads the menu but she quickly puts on a calm facade.

"What's wrong?" I ask, watching her bite her lip looking somewhat embarrassed, I can't help but find it adorable.

"It's…nothing…I've just never been here before," she stammers. She's looking at me with a smile on her face but I can tell it's not real, I know a real Quinn Fabray smile, the kind of smile that lights up a room, and this is not the one. But don't push it any further, it's none of my business, and I'm not even supposed to know what her real or fake smile is like. I just nod and continue to read my menu. It's probably the prices; _Valentino_ is one of the only restaurants in LA that have their prices listed on the menu; I immediately feel like I jerk. Why the hell did I bring her here of all places? I mean we could've gone to any restaurant in Los Angeles, but I had to choose one of the most expensive ones? I feel like such a douche bag.

_SQ_

Quinn POV

I feel so humiliated, here I am having dinner with the guy I'm in love with and I can't even afford the food. When I opened the menu the first thing it had, was over $50 and that was just an entrée.

I can tell Sam knows that something is up, but he, like the gentleman he always is, doesn't say anything about it.

"So, you've never really been here before?" Sam asks, and I smile. He's trying to change the subject so it's not totally awkward between us.

"No, I haven't," say and Sam melodramatically gasps, putting his hand over his mouth. I laugh, "what?" I ask.

"_You've never been to Valentino?"_He asks and I just shake my head no, Sam looks surprised, like coming to such and expensive restaurant is normal.

"No, why?" I ask and Sam just shakes his head chuckling.

"Valentino is one of the most well-known restaurants in all of Los Angeles," he says, "I can't believe you've never been here."

"Fancy restaurants are not really my thing," I say truthfully, I feel like Sam has totally converted to LA life, while I'm still trying to get situated.

"Oh, really?" he says laughing, "so, what is your thing, Quinn Fabray?"

"Just homemade food, with a couple of friends at home in casual clothing," I say and he grins at me, that goofy Sam grin. The one he had in high school oh so long ago.

"That sounds really great," Sam says looking up at me his face solemn, "nice, small, and private."

"Yeah," I say feeling somewhat awkward, "I guess I haven't been turned into a Californian yet."

This makes him smile, "it takes us all soon," he says looking back at his menu.

I look through the menu and find the cheapest thing on it and it's still over a hundred dollars; it's the mushroom ravioli. The waiter comes back a few minutes later with a wine bottle and he pours the wine into the two glasses that are on the table; he asks for our orders.

"I'll have the Acquarello rice and pasta" Sam says and I look down at his order, that's already over $250, the waiter turns to me.

"I'll the mushroom ravioli," I say looking at Sam who is looking at me, I hope he doesn't notice that I've chosen the cheapest thing on the menu and even if he does

I smile at him although I don't think I should be ordering this. I've never had a more expensive meal in my entire life. The waiter writes down the order and leaves us to go get our food. I look at Sam who is taking a sip of his wine.

"Mmm," he says, "not bad, for French wine." I laugh and Sam smiles at me.

"What?" he asks.

I shake my head, "nothing," I say, "it's just our lives are polar opposites." I just then realize the truth of my words.

"Oh?" Sam asks his tone playful and almost mocking.

"Yeah," I say, "here you are talking about French wine, while I am still getting over the fact that I'm actually in a restaurant like this." The truthiness of my words makes him smile.

"We're not that different Quinn," he says taking another sip of his wine and I'm left wondering what he means. His voice breaks me from my trance, "taste some of the wine," he says, "you'll like it."

I smile and pick up my glass bringing it to my lips letting the cold pale yellow wine into my mouth. It's actually really good, it tastes a bit sour and a bit like honey; better than most wines I've tasted.

"Good huh?" Sam asks and I nod causing him to smile, "so… how's life?"

I laugh but answer the random question, "it's good," I say for lack of a better answer, "you?"

Sam smiles, "it's good," he repeats before chuckling, "no, it's alright, I guess it could be better but it's alright."

"How so?" I ask, not wanting to pry but I want to know whether or not Mallory's told him about the baby.

"Well, my wife's gone for a month, work's tiring but I'm happy to be alive you know," he says looking deep in thought, "you have no idea how many people I see die each day."

I look at him and give a sad smile before asking, "how can you deal with that?"

He looks up at me and shrugs, "you get used to it I guess," he says, "it was really hard at first but it gets better over time."

"I don't think I could ever be a doctor," I say sipping my wine, "I wouldn't be able to bear it."

"I know what you mean," he says putting his glass down on the table, "I never thought I would be a doctor but I guess life takes you where it wants to."

I smile at his philosophical words, the Sam Evans I know would never say something like that; he's changed so much.

"What happened to you?" I ask before I can stop myself, Sam just smiles.

"Life catches up to you Quinn," he says, "you can't always be one way forever."

"But your still the same person," I say pointing at his hair, "you still dye your hair, although I don't think you use lemon juice anymore."

We both laugh at this, Sam shakes his head, "Ah, good times," he says, "I am still the Sam person you met in high school seven years ago Quinn, I've just lived seven years longer."

I smile, "do you think I've changed?" I ask looking down, waiting for his answer.

"Yes," he says, and I look at him; he is deep in thought, "you're not as you were in high school, I can't really explain it; you're just different."

I smile at his response, "you know I always thought you'd end up being a male model or something," I say.

Sam laughs, "really?" he says, and I nod, "you think I'd make a good one?"

I nod again, "you didn't look so bad in McKinley High's calendar as Mr. June." I say laughing, remembering Sam and his washboard abs that hung on my bedroom wall for an entire month.

Sam laughs again, "you saw that?" he asks.

I nod, "it hung on my wall for an entire month," I say watching Sam blush.

"I never really thought about it hanging from people's walls before," he says and I laugh.

Just then the waiter comes back carrying a tray, with two plates of food on it. "here you go sir," Jason says putting a plate in front of Sam and then one in front of me, "madam, enjoy." he then walks away, probably not wanting to stay too long after Sam scared him away before.

Sam picks up his fork and dips into his pasta, picking up the appropriate amount and putting it into his mouth. Sam gestures for me to eat and I do. I pick up my spoon and put it into the hot, steamy substance into my mouth. I burn myself as soon as the food touches my tongue, but I hold it in, not wanting Sam to see me so immature and unprofessional. I don't show any sign of distress; eventually I begin to actually taste the ravioli and it is delicious, I've never ever tasted anything so good in my life before.

I must have a look of bliss on my face because Sam asks me, "good huh?" he is smiling, I nod and he laughs.

"You should've seen me my first time here," he says, "I came here with one of my friends which meant I could eat as much as I want because you know with Mallory it has its restrictions."

I laugh and he continues, "I ate so much that when I was walking out of the restaurant that night I thought I was going to burst," he says laughing, I laugh too.

"I hope that doesn't happen to me tonight," I say still laughing.

"Don't worry, I wont let you get that carried away," Sam says and we both laugh again. I can't help thinking that this is how it's supposed to be; I know I sound cheesy and a cliché, quoting a Taylor Swift song, but its true Sam should be with her, he should be with me.

_SQ_

Time flies by so fast that I don't even realize how late it's gotten when Quinn tells me that it's getting late. It seems like no time at all, even though it was hours; mean I should have noticed it. We had ordered desert, Quinn had said she was too full but I knew that it was because she didn't want to waste anymore money but I insisted making her order even though it was the cheapest thing on the menu. We spent hours talking about our lives, high school; joking around talking about times back in glee club and times we were away from each other.

One time though she asked me if Mallory and I were planning on starting a family or if we were trying, that threw me kind of off. I mean why would she ask something like that? I composed myself and calmly answered truthfully, that I would love to have children, but with both our jobs it would be kind of stressful, especially with Mallory being so committed with her job at the newspaper. Quinn just nodded and quickly charged the subject; almost as if she knew something that I didn't.

I didn't dwell on that any further, Quinn and I resumed talking over our food, having several glasses of wine; we were a bit tipsy when the night ended.

It was so easy talking to Quinn, it was as if we had known each other forever; sure we'd _known _each other for a while, but before our encounter at her shop a few weeks ago, we hadn't seen each other in seven years. I almost felt like it was seven years ago, just me and Quinn at breadsticks during one of our dates, the atmosphere now was much like it had been back then, although we weren't making out over our foods.

When Quinn tells me that it's getting a little late I look at my watch, it's almost midnight. I nod and call over the waiter for the check.

He comes back a few minutes later with a folder with a receipt in it. He hands it to me and I can feel Quinn watching me. I look at the total, $450; a fair enough amount for having dinner and desert at _Valentino_. Quinn is staring intently at the folder in my hands as soon as I open it. I laugh to myself, I know her so much better than she thinks. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and pull my credit card out placing it in the folder along with a 50 as a tip.

I hand the folder back to waiter and he walks away, I smile at Quinn and take a sip of my water, trying to get rid of the alcohol in my system.

"Why did you do that?" she asks, I look over at her she looks hurt and I feel like kicking myself for making her feel that way.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, although I already know what she is talking about.

"Why did you pay for me?" she asks looking deep into my eyes.

"Quinn," I say after I shake off being lost in her eyes, "I brought you here and I should pay," she just shakes her head, "I true gentlemen always pays remember."

Quinn smiles a little at me for quoting what she said to me on our very first date. "I'm sorry Sam," she says quietly, looking down.

"For what?" I ask leaning over so that I can lift her chin up and make her look at me.

"For paying for me," she answers, "you didn't have to; I didn't want you to waste your money. I mean I could've paid."

"Whoa, Quinn," I say holding my hands up stopping her from rambling, "it's alright, you weren't wasting my money, trust me I'm not going to go hungry from paying for your dinner, but I do think I might if Mallory spends all my money shopping in Milan."

Quinn genuinely lets out a laugh and I smile, I don't like it when she's upset; I want her to always be happy. "Thank you," Quinn says and I smile again.

"No problem," I say as the waiter comes back with my credit card and receipt.

"Thank you so much sir," he says to me, "madam," he turns to Quinn, "have a wonderful night."

We both mumble a thank you and get up from the table, quickly bidding farewell to Mark, who is still here, and making our way out from the restaurant. We talk about our time their as the valet pulls out my car in front. He hands me the keys and I open the door for Quinn smiling at her as she smiles at me. I make my way over to my side and start driving out of the restaurant parking lot.

"So, I guess I guess I should take you home now," I say glancing over at Quinn, who nods. I don't want her to leave, I want her to stay, but I'm married. I should be feeling this way at all, I can't ask her to go somewhere else with me without letting things get out of control.

"Put in your address into the GPS," I say when we stop at a red light and she does. After a minute, she's done and I start driving towards her home.

After about 15 minutes of driving we finally make it to her apartment building. I look out my window at the tall brick building. It's in midtown Los Angeles, where there is barely and space to park. So I just stop in front of the entrance to the apartment, I look over at Quinn who is looking at me.

"Well, I guess this is goodnight," I say, not wanting to.

"Yea," she says nodding. She unbuckles her seat belt and I contemplate on whether or not to walk her to the door, I decide that I can't since I'm still stopped in the middle of the road.

"Thank you for a wonderful night Sam," she says smiling at me.

"No, thank_ you"_ I say and she blushes, I swear she has never looked more beautiful right then and there.

"Goodnight Sam," she says leaning over and kissing my cheek. He lips are warm and soft, just like they were all those years ago, I never want them to leave my skin but after a short while the wonderful moment ends. Quinn smiles at me and opens the door and steps out of the car. When she gets out she waves one last time before shutting the door.

I watch her walk towards the door to the building and open it; after she does she turns back and sees my car still parked there, she smiles and waves. I wave back although I'm sure she can't see through the heavily dark tinted windows.She just smiles and walks into the building, the door shutting behind her.

I stay there for a few minutes before driving off towards my quiet, empty house on the other side of town. Thinking of Quinn Fabray the whole time; I don't even try to stop my thought this time because I know that I'll never be able to stop.


	7. Another Night

**This is the start of something big. BTW who else was so mad about the samcedes rumors, not that have anything against that, but i'm a die hard fabrevans shipper. Anyways enjoy!**

Quinn's POV

It's been two days since Sam and I had dinner, two days that I've had only one thing on my mind; two days of restless sleep and unanswered longing. I don't know if I should call Sam something, that would probably sound desperate but I really don't know what to do. At times I think that not being around him would be the best, I mean I know something that could possibly ruin his marriage, how can I even look at him knowing that he's going to be so devastated by this.

So when Sam called me asking me to go see a movie with him, I was more than surprised. But of course I said yes, was I really to say no? Like there was any chance of that, sometimes I felt that my heart had a mind of its own.

It had been early afternoon and I was sitting in my office, brainstorming ideas for my summer collection and fixing up my spring collection when my phone had rung. I had picked it up without looking at the caller id.

"Hello?" I said sketching away on my pad.

"Hey, Quinn," Sam's voice said from the phone, causing me to immediately drop my pencil and listen into the phone attentively.

"Sam?" I said, thinking my mind was playing tricks on me.

"Yea, hey," Sam said again, I could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"Hey," I said somewhat breathlessly, my heart was racing 100 miles per hour, "how did you get my number?"

"Oh, I got it from Santana," he said and at that point I never loved Santana more.

"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"So, Quinn are you busy tonight?" he asked, and my heart raced faster, which was something I thought was impossible.

"Uh, yea, I mean I guess I don't have anything important to do," I said trying to play coy, but I was pretty sure he could hear my heart from the other side of the conversation.

"Well, I was wondering if you might want to go see a movie with me tonight," Sam asked, and I smiled from ear to ear.

"A movie?" I asked, genuinely surprised that he asked me out to a movie.

"Yea, I really wanted to go see it, it's this independent film about two tormented lovers, I know cheesy right, but I think it's actually really good," he had said, causing me to almost jump up and down like a teenager being asked out by the guy of her dreams.

"Really?" I asked causing him to give a nervous laugh from the other end.

"Yea and I was kind of hoping that maybe you'd go with me," Sam said and I felt myself smile, well of course I was going to go with him, but I didn't tell him that obviously.

"Sam Evans into romantic independent films, I never thought that was possible," I said laughing.

"Yea, yea I know, but one of my friends is actually the director and he really wants me to go see it, so would you come with me Quinn?"He asked and I can feel blush creeping up to my cheeks.

"I mean I don't have anything to do, so sure," I said playing it coy.

"Awesome," he had said, "I'll pick you up at 7 okay?"

"Okay," I said smiling to myself, and with that we had hung up and it took all I had to not do a victory dance around my office.

And so here I am, going through my closet trying to pick out the perfect out fit to wear. I don't know if I should go casually, or if I should dress up; I f I did dress up would it make me look like I was trying to hard? Urg! All this pressure is pushing me over the edge. What the hell do you wear to a movie premiere?

After trying on several outfits, during a span of 2 hours I finally chose wearing a simple, yet probably one of the fanciest things that I have in my closet, blue dress that ended mid-thigh, there, not casual, but not too much either. Sure it shows some skin, but not enough to be labeled as slutty.

After applying makeup and drinking several glasses of water to calm my nerves I hear the door bell ring.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

I ring the door bell once before Quinn answers a few seconds later. I gap at her beauty; she's so beautiful that it's not even fair. She is wearing a short tight dress, and I almost have to adjust my junk at the amount of skin she is showing. She smiles at me and I compose myself before smiling back at her. Why does she have to make it so hard to not think about her _that_ way?

"Hey," she says smiling, opening the door wider.

"Hi," I say tearing my eyes away from her body and back to her face. I swear the dress makes her breasts look a whole lot bigger than they had a few nights ago, "you look beautiful."

She smiles, that god damn beautiful smile, "thanks, you do too," she says gesturing to my attire. I am wearing a pair of black jeans with a sky blue dress shirt and a white skinny tie, with a light jacket on top. I smile at her and she steps aside.

"Come on in," she says, "I'm just going to get my purse." I step inside her homey apartment.

It isn't that big, but it's big enough. The walls are painted in various feminine colors like yellow and light blue and green. I wait in her living room while she gets her purse; her apartment is pretty standard for someone like her, small, private, and balanced. She has modest furniture and decorations in her house, not the bid, over priced stuff Mallory has decided to put in our house. I notice there are a lot of pictures on the table beside the TV.

I walk over to it, and gaze among the many pictures. A lot of them are of Quinn, some with Santana a Brittany, some with Beth, a few with her mom, and some of the glee club. I look at picture after picture, there's one of when the New Directions had one Nationals senior year, one of when Quinn graduated from collage, one of her holding a pair of giant scissors cutting a bright red ribbon in front of her shop, one of Quinn at prom. I come across one very interesting one, it's of us; there we are, Quinn and I, at the Hudson-Hummel wedding, her wearing that red dress and me in my suit, we're sitting at one of the tables, smiling at one another, we look so happy, so… in love.

Just then Quinn comes into the room, with her clutch; Mallory hates it when I call it a purse, in hand. I smile at her.

"Ready?" I ask and she nods.

"Yep, let's go," she says and I offer her my hand as we walk out of her apartment and get in the elevator, making our way down to my car.

Soon we are in my car, driving off towards the theater. I can't help sneak glances at her during the drive, which is pretty quiet; she looks just so gorgeous, I can't help it. We make it to the theater in quite a short period of time; there was barely any traffic which is like a miracle in Los Angeles.

We walk into the theater hand in hand, where we are greeted by my good friend and director of the movie, Jack.

"Ah, Sam," he says shying my hand, "so glad that you could make it."

"Thanks Jack," I say, "sorry Mallory couldn't make it though, she's on a business trip."

"Oh?" Jack says smiling, "I can't say I'm disappointed though." I laugh, Mallory didn't really like Jack, she was always short with him, and she hated the act that he directed movies, she thought it was a waste of a profession.

"Who's this?" he asks holding his hand out to shake Quinn's, which she does.

"This is my friend, Quinn," I say gesturing to Quinn.

"Well, nice to meet you Quinn," Jack says after shaking Quinn's hand, "well, I have to go, but I hope you two enjoy the movie."

"Thanks Jack," I say and Quinn and I both walk to a pair of empty seats, sitting down side by side.

"You're friend seems nice," Quinn says once we've sat down.

"Yea, we're pretty close," I say looking over at her; she even looks beautiful in dim light, "Mallory doesn't really like him though."

"Why not?" she asks.

"Well, Mallory thinks his job is kind of a waste since his films aren't that popular, I mean they occasionally make it on _Lifetime_ or _LMN_ but she thinks he should give up directing and try to get a better job to provide for his family better.

"Oh," Quinn looks down, "that's a terrible way to look at things." I look at her, she just bad-mouthed my wife, I should be upset but I can't help but agree with her. Just then Quinn realizes what she just said and her head snaps up and looks at me.

"Omigod, I'm so sorry Sam," she says rambling, "I didn't mean it like that, I mean I'm so sorry I shouldn't have said that…" Oh how much I want to cut her off by pressing lips to hers, like I used to do when we were dating, but of course I can't. I know it should bother me that she said that about Mallory, but really I'm not the least upset, its one of the things I love about Quinn, she sometimes speaks without thinking, that's one way to find out what she really is thinking.

"Hey, hey," I say calming her down, "it's okay, don't hit yourself over it."

She looks at me with a somber look and I laugh, "seriously Quinn, it's alright." She smiles just a little bit then and the whole theater goes black.

I look at the screen where the opening credits of the movie are showing, indicating the beginning of the movie.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

I'm crying by the end of the movie, it was just so sad. The tormented lovers, fighting through everything for one another, it just made me want to break down and cry my eyes out that I didn't have anyone that loved me; but of course I didn't, that's so high school- far away from me now.

The movie was just so sweet that I'm sure even Sam even shed a few tears, even though he claimed he had something in his eye. The movie was called _Love Waits Forever; _I can't help but think that the title is almost like my love for Sam. I knew that I could wait forever for him.

As the closing credits of the movie scroll down, Sam turns to me and smiles.

"Good movie huh?" he asks and I nod, dabbing my eye with a tissue.

"It was so beautiful," I say and he nods, before standing up.

"Come on," he says offering me his hand, "let's go congratulate Jack." I smile and take his hand, it feels so warm and rough, but gentle in its own way. We walk hand in hand towards Jack who seeing off an elderly man.

"Jack," Sam says hugging his friend, "that was awesome dude."

"Thanks Sam," he says looking at me, "made you cry did it Quinn?"

I nod, "yes, it was so beautiful," I say and Jack smiles.

"Thank you guys so much for coming down to see it," Jack said, "it really meant a lot to me."

"No problem Jack," Sam says and then we go our separate ways, Jack having to speak to other viewers.

Sam and I walk to his car, unfortunately he's not holding my hand like he did when we got out of his car, but he still does open his door for me, which I can't help but find so sweet.

"So, where do you want to go from here?" Sam asks, I know he's probably expecting me to ask him to drop me off at home, but I don't say that.

"You pick," I say causing Sam's eyes to widen in surprise.

"Oh, uh… okay," Sam says thinking hard, "have you had dinner yet?"

I shake my head, "well, then why don't you show me what you meant by 'homemade dinner with a couple of friends in casual clothing'," Sam says quoting what I had said during our dinner two days ago.

I laugh, "okay," I say, although I'm somewhat surprised by his sudden forwardness, "let's go to my place and I'll show you."

Sam smiles and puts the car in rear, driving out of the parking lot and into the busy streets of LA, towards my apartment.

We get there in about 45 minutes; we would've gotten their sooner if Sam hadn't made a wrong turn, ending us up in Venice. Laughing on our way back, I was doing much of the laughing because Sam thought it wasn't wall that funny that he had gotten them lost, we finally made it to my apartment.

Sam parked in the underground parking lot and together we walk into the elevator, towards the 6th floor. Things take a turn in the elevator though.

_Boom! _All of a sudden the elevator stops, and the lights go off, bringing Sam and I to a jolt.

"What the hell?" Sam says, pushing random buttons on the keypad, trying to make the elevator move again.

I reach over and push the emergency call button. "…Yes, how may I help you," says a feminine voice from the other end.

"Uh… we're kind of stuck here," Sam says and I have to stop myself from laughing at his exasperated expression. Honestly I don't mind being stuck in a cold, dark, elevator with the man of my dreams.

"Oh, well, that's a problem, isn't it," says the voice, "I'll have that fixed as soon as possible, but it may take up to half an hour.

Sam sighs and looks at me, I smile at him and just shake my head, "alright thank you," I say and the lady replies a quick _your welcome_ before hanging up. After she does I can't help but burst out laughing.

"What?" Sam says, he sounds annoyed, but by the look of him face, he finds this somewhat humorous too.

"What are the odds?" I say causing him to laugh.

"Well," he says, leaning against the wall, "at least I'm not stuck in an elevator with somebody else."

This causes me to blush, but I'm sure Sam can't see that because of the poor lighting. "Yea," I say trying to lighten the moment a little, "at least I'm not stuck in here with some old crabby lady."

Sam laughs, "I'd like to think I'm better than that," he says and I smile.

"I don't know, the old ladies sure do have interesting stories to tell about life," I say leaning up against the opposite wall in the small elevator, even though the dim light I can still see Sam's face mock offended.

"Yeah, right," he says and I laugh.

"What about me?" I ask, trying to pass the time without it getting awkward "am I better than the old lady?"

Sam smiles, "a whole lot better," he says giving me his signature lop-sided grin, "prettier too."

I'm not much of a blusher, but Sam Evans can charm his way into anyone's heart. "Thanks," I say, not knowing what else to say. Sam just nods clearly embarrassed.

A cool breeze drifts through the elevator, causing me to shiver. How did it get so cold in here? God, I wish I had brought a jacket. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep warm.

"Are you cold?" Sam asks me, looking concerned.

"No, I'm fine," I lie, but Sam doesn't look persuaded, he just shrugs out of his jacket and walks over to me, putting the warm jacket around me shoulders.

"Here," he says, tucking it between my shoulder blades, "take that."

I smile at him, as he walks back to his side of the elevator, even after all these years he is still the same gentleman that swept me off my feet in high school. "Thank you," I say clutching the jacket closer to me, it smells like him, a mixture of his cologne and peppermint, it smells delicious.

"You're welcome," he says and then the air gets awkward, neither of us say anything, we don't even look at each other, although I'm sneaking glances at him. He's looking at his feet, his hands in his pockets.

"You know you haven't changed that much," I say breaking the awkward silence.

"Huh?" he asks looking up at me, as if I had just interrupted his train of thought.

"You're still the Sam gentle man that I met in high school," I say and he smiles.

"I try," he says and I giggle. Just then, the elevator jumps and starts going up again causing both of us to jump along with it.

Laughter is followed after that; we do finally make it to the 6th floor and together we step out and I lead the way towards my apartment.

I open the door and walk in with him following after me. Once we're in the living room I turn to him.

"Ok, first step of what my definition of an ideal dinner is," I say and he smiles at me, "we need to get rid of these fancy cloths and into something more casual and appropriate." Sam laughs and I start walking towards my bedroom, "I'm going to go change and you might want to take off that tie," I say grinning at him and he just shakes his head amused, but nevertheless starts taking off his tie.

I walk to my room, at a surprisingly rapid pace; I just don't want to waste anytime that I could be with him, and I really want to get out of this dress, I was never one for fancy clothing. Once I get into my bedroom, I close the door and start taking off my dress; after eradicating it in my closet, I pull on a simple white t-shirt and an old pair of blue jeans.

I make it out of my room in record time, to find Sam still standing over my photo cabinet, admiring the pictures on it, like he had been earlier that day. His tie and jacket are resting on the arm of the couch, and he has rolled up the sleeves on his shirt so that I can see the toned muscles on his forearms.

Averting my eyes, I look at him; he doesn't seem to know I'm standing right there so I clear my throat and his head snaps up and looks at me, before smiling.

"Hey," he says, appraising my apparel, "casual, huh?"

I smile and nod, taking his wrist and leading him towards the kitchen. "Come on, it's your dinner too and I'm not making it by myself while you watch," I say watching him laugh.

"I never said I didn't want to cook with you," Sam says and I feel giddy at what he just said, "believe it or not, I'm quite the chef myself."

"Really?" I say raising an eyebrow as we walk into the kitchen.

"Yep," he says, and I'm quite surprised that his tone is serious, "I took a cooking class in collage, turns out I love to cook."

I smile, the Sam I know would never have loved to cook, he was always the typical teenage boy, cooking was not one of their fine attributes. Seeing this new, changed, more mature Sam can't help but turn me on even more.

"Well, then Chef Evans," I say giggling, "let's see what you can do." Sam just chuckles and grabs one of the cook books that were on the counter.

"Let's find your ideal dinner meal, Chef Fabray," he says and I laugh, walking over to him and flip through the book. It takes us a while, but we settle on making fried rice and roasted chicken. My grandmother had always said the way to a man's heart is his stomach, even though I always thought of that as demeaning to women and stereotypical to men, I couldn't help but wonder.

I walk over to the fridge and pull out what we need to make the meal, meanwhile Sam is going through the cupboards, picking out the right ingredients and perfect spices for the floor. I smile at him as he intently reads the labels on the bottles of spices, his eyebrow furrowed, something that he did when he was thinking hard.

After several minutes of picking out, finding and even arguing over the ingredients and spices, we had what we needed to make a perfect dinner.

"I'll get started on the chicken; you think you could do the rice?" Sam asks and I nod, even though I stink at using a pan, even if it was nonstick, my food would always stick to the bottom of the pan, burning the latter part of the food in the process. But I don't want to tell Sam that I can't do it, so I just go with it, making sure to be extra careful this time.

"Yea, sure," I say and Sam picks up the frozen, pieced chicken and taking of out of the wrapping, and skinning it.

I pick up a bag of raw rice and get a pot to put it in. I snip the edge of the bag and pour the rice into the pot, trying so hard not to spill any, but I still do, and make somewhat of a mess. I don't know why I'm like this, I mean I've cooked rice before, and never made a mess before, but the fact the love of my life is standing a few feet away from me, skinning chicken. I smile at that and continue to pour a fair amount of rice for both of us into the pot, trying my very best to keep the mess at a minimum.

After I'm done I pour some water into the pot and put it in the rice cooker, letting the appliance do its duty. I start cleaning the rice off the counter, watching Sam. He is skinning the chicken keenly and professionally, the beauty of it all makes me smile even more. I can imagine what would happen if I didn't let him get away, that maybe we'd be the ones married instead of him and Mallory, and that we'd be cooking together on a regular basis.

Sam catches me staring at him after he finishes skinning the chicken.

"What?" he asks smiling.

I shake my head, "nothing it's just I never thought I'd see you skinning chicken," I say and he laughs.

"Neither did I," he says and I smile, before he goes back to attending to his chicken. His skilled hands working on them, kneading them to make sure their perfect; I can't help but shish my body got the attention of those pieces of chicken, for him to massage my skin like that, with his hands and lips. I can feel myself getting aroused at such thoughts, thoughts that's all it takes for him to make me want him with every inch of my body.

The sound of the rice cooker go off, breaks me away from the sexual thoughts of the married man in my kitchen. I turn to it and see that the rice is already cooked and I use oven mitts to pull the pot out from the rice cooker.

I keep myself busy after that, cutting vegetables, scrabbling eggs, seasoning the vegetables and eggs- anything to keep my mind go into that mode again. I can't be thinking of him like this, he's married! I'm not a home wreaker, even though his wife wreaked their marriage before I had the chance to, I will not do anything that could ruin his marriage.

I spoon the rice into the greased pan sitting on the counter, taking my sweet time and making sure everything is perfect. I don't even pay attention to Sam behind me, but I can hear him starting the oven and putting the chicken in there. I mix the vegetables and eggs into the rice and turn on my stove, placing the pan on it; hearing it sizzle. I move the rice around with my kitchen spoon mixing the oil in it better and making sure it doesn't stick to the bottom of the pan.

I hear Sam start the timer and set it on the counter from behind me, I don't turn around though; I just continue to turn my rice. I feel Sam come and stand beside me.

"Hey," he says looking at the rice in the pan, "that looks really good."

I smile and blush somewhat at his flattery, "thanks," I say trying to change the color of my rosy cheeks, "but you're probably just saying that because you're hungry."

Sam shakes his, head, "nope, I never knew you were a good cook, I mean remember that one time in home ec when you burned those brownies we made?" he says laughing causing me to laugh too.

"I do remember that," I say recalling the memory which is still crystal clear in my head, "I started crying after that and started saying that I couldn't do anything and you told me that it was okay and that when we got married I'd be a great wife that had all the domestic skills." I watch his face change from a smile to a solemn look right away.

I look away from him and continue to fry the rice, after a few minutes of no talking Sam asks, "you need any help with that?" I look at him and shake my head.

"No, why don't you go set the table?" I ask and he nods in reply, walking towards the cabinets and pulling out two plates and walking towards the dining table.

I try not to pay attention to him, but I find that harder then I thought it would be, soon I'm not even paying attention to the rice but him moving around the table, perfectly setting the silverware on the table. I hear the oven timer click and Sam walks over to it, slipping on a pair of oven mitts and opening the door to the oven, lifting the pan and setting on the adjacent counter. All of a sudden, as I'm watching Sam, I see a see a flash of orange on the pan from the corner of my eye.

"Omigod!" I scream at the flame that was currently residing on the pan. Sam immediately is at my side, quickly turning off the stove and carefully lifting pan off the stove and onto the closest counter. I watch him; try to take out the fire, hitting it with his mitt. It soon does go away, smoke flowing from surprisingly not burned, but nicely fried rice. Sam looks at me and I have a blank face, he walks over to me and takes my hands in his.

"Are you alright?" he asks examining me up and down, looking for any signs of external injury, "did you get burned anywhere?" I shake my head but Sam keeps observing my exposed arms, looking for any burn marks. When he doesn't find anything he looks at me and I nod, indicating that I'm alright.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks and I nod again.

"I'm fine Sam, I didn't get burned," I reassure him and he finally relaxes. He lets go of my hand and wraps an arms around my shoulder, leading me to the dinning table, in the connected dinning room and sitting me down on one of the chairs at the end of the table.

"Just relax okay?" he says, "I'll go get the rice and chicken." He descends into the kitchen and I can't help but love him even more right then. He's worried about me, he's looking after me; making everything alright, fixing everything. Sam always was one who made me feel safe and cared for, unlike anyone had ever done before.

After a few minutes Sam comes back with a dish of fried rice that he sets on the small rectangular table, he goes back to the kitchen and comes back with another dish with chicken on it, setting it beside the rice. Sam also puts a jug of water on the table before sitting down beside the corner of the table.

"The rice actually looks perfect," he says smiling at me, I give a small smile.

"Yea, starting a mini fire didn't really have an affect on it did it?" I say laughing, Sam laughs too.

"I guess not," he says picking up large spoon and scooping some rice onto my plate, before putting some on his; he puts a piece of chicken on each of our plates too and pours us 2 glasses of water.

"I know that you didn't really expect to almost set the kitchen on fire as your ideal dinner, but this is not bad right?" he asks and I smile.

"It's a lot better than not bad," I say watching him smile in return.

Sam picks up his glass, "to your ideal dinner," he says and I laugh picking up my glass and clinking it with his, before we both take a drink of water.

We dig in after that, and I cant believe that the food was actually delicious, well I know the chicken had to be good, but I seriously thought that the rice would taste like crap but it was delicious too, the perfect blend of spices, it was amazing.

"This is really good," I say to Sam and he nods in agreement.

"I know," he says and we finish our dinner in silence, not saying anything for the mere fact of being so hungry that we didn't have time for talking. We finish in record time, and we both reach for seconds, I really didn't know I was this hungry.

After all the food is done and we are full, Sam and I retreat to the sink to wash the dishes, me washing and him drying.

"You know this dinner wasn't so bad," Sam says smiling, I smile back.

"Thanks, but I'd take going out than almost burning your kitchen any day," I say and Sam laughs.

"It was fun though," he says smiling as he dries a plate.

"Agreed," I say.

After cleaning everything up, we retreat to the living room, sitting side by side on the couch, though not touching. We're eating a bowl of ice cream as dessert.

Sam finishes his a little while before I finish mine and sets it on the coffee table in front of us.

"It's getting late," he says standing up, "I should probably get going." I nod and stand up with him but I don't want him to leave.

"Yea," I say as he grabs his coat and tie from the arm of the couch.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, Quinn," he says, "thank you."

"I had fun too Sam," I say, "I forgot how much I missed you." I know I probably shouldn't have said that, but Sam doesn't say anything in return; he just pulls me into a hug.

"I missed you too," he says and I smile against his shoulder, I so badly want to kiss him, but I don't.

We pull apart after what seems like forever, but we're still holding each other, our faces so close together. I feel myself gradually inching my face closer to his, but I don't make a move to do anything more. And then the unthinkable happens.

Sam leans down and presses his lips to mine in a soft but slowly progressing kiss. And I do what I wanted to since I saw him in my boutique oh so long ago. I kiss him back.

**Oh... cliffhanger**** yea, i know horrible right. dont worry the next chapter will be here shortly.**

**Please review**

**R&R**


	8. The Park

**Thank you all for the amazing reviews last chapter. They inspired me. I actually live in LA so I know all the places and stuff, anyways enjoy!**

Sam's POV

(Before the kiss)

"I had a lot of fun Quinn," I say smiling at her, "thank you." She can't imagine how much fun I had, that was the most fun I had in years. Mallory was so uptight that it was hard to actually to have fun with her. She's always so stressed and edgy that she was at times just… boring. I mean don't get me wrong I love Mallory, but she can be so tense, that I don't even know how to act around her, without getting yelled at.

"I had fun too Sam," she says in that soft melodic voice of hers, "I forgot how much I missed you." When she says that I'm pretty sure I lose all self control. I pull her to me and hug her, resting my chin on her shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of her, it almost seems as if we're still in high school and I'm leaving at night so her mom won't catch me when she comes back.

"I missed you too," I say, probably the most truthful thing in the world, damn have I ever missed Quinn Fabray; high school was quite a time ago.

I can feel her lips curve upwards on my shoulder; they're pressed into my shoulder and I almost lose it there for a second.

I don't let her go for a while, but it all seems too short when I finally have to let her go. I chastise myself for letting the hug go that far, I mean it was supposed to be a friendly hug between two friends, friends don't hug like Quinn and I just had.

I stop hugging her, but I don't let her go. In spite of my earlier chastising, I _can't _let her go, I _need _her, and yeah it sounds cheesy; but I feel like a part of me is still with her.

Quinn and I continue to look at each other; and then it happens. She smiles.

That smile, that heartbreaking, love at first sight, I can't take my eyes off her, she's the most beautiful girl in the universe smile. I can't take it any more; I have to do it, I'm pretty sure that I'll die if I don't. I kiss her.

Her soft, smooth, delicious lips pressed against mine, in a way that should never have been broken. It starts off as an innocent kiss, which I'm sure wouldn't even be considered cheating; it was more like a peck then a kiss, but the sparks there were undeniable. Hell, there wasn't sparks, there were fireworks.

I feel like such a dick, god what the hell is wrong with me. I'm just about to pull away, when I feel something happen that glues me to my spot. She's kissing me back.

Her addicting lips are moving in perfect synchronization against mine. It's perfect; I never want it to stop. The once small, innocent peck turns into the most passionate kiss I've shared since… well since junior year of high school with Quinn.

I don't know who deepened the kiss; but I have a pretty good idea that it was me. My arm slips around her waist, and my hand cups her face holding her to me. I feel her warp her arms around my neck, her fingers running through my blonde hair.

I really have no idea what's gotten into me, I mean I do not cheat. Samuel Joseph Evans does not cheat. That's been a promise to myself that I would never cheat on a girl, after what happened with Quinn and Finn in high school. I would never want to hurt anybody the way I had hurt when I found out about Quinn and Finn, but this isn't me. My brain isn't working right now; my brain isn't doing any of this. My heart is.

I feel like I have to kiss her in order to survive, I'm vulnerable against her. I slip my tongue in between my lips and lick her bottom lip; seeking entrance. She opens her mouth and immediately my tongue in against hers; exploring her mouth, something that I haven't done in ages. I feel intoxicated against her lips.

Our tongues are working ferociously against each other when I feel it. The guilt. I feel the ring that's around the third finger on my left hand burning into my skin; it seems like it weighs a hundred pounds. A million thought plunge into my head, Quinn helping clean me off after getting slushied, us singing lucky, our first date at breadsticks, us making out on her lounge chair, me proposing my promise ring to her, her showing me her wearing it at my locker, us singing at sectionals, me singing _'Baby'_ to her, finding out about her and Finn, breaking up with her in the hallway, her helping me babysit, our first time making love. And then Mallory invades my mind, bumping into her in the quad at Duke, me saving her from that douche, her becoming my best friend, our first date… our wedding day. That hits me like a freight train carrying a thousand tons, coming at me at a million miles an hour.

With ever ounce of energy I have in my body I pull away from Quinn.

I step backwards from her, untangling my arms from her body, and she straightens up; seems like I'd been pushing her against the couch.

I look at her, she is staring intently at me; waiting for me to say something, which I probably should since I was the one that kissed her. But I don't have a clue in my brain of what to say. I just look at her, I'm sure I look super guilty; she looks the same, the same beautiful, breathtaking face.

I'm at a loss of words, but I say what I have to, "Quinn…I- I'm so, so sorry," I choke out of my suddenly dry throat. I don't know what else to say, what do you say after you kiss your first love after seven years, and you happen to be married in the process; I bet even Gandhi didn't even know what to say in this situation.

Quinn doesn't say anything, she just looks at me. I feel like an even bigger asshole for doing this to her. I know she deserves a proper explanation; you don't just kiss a girl like that and say 'I'm sorry'.

I say what's on my mind right now, "I don't know what to say, Quinn," I say and she doesn't respond at first. She's still staring at me. After a while she turns away from me.

"I guess you need to leave now," she says, her back to me, so I can't see her face. I realize that she's right, I probably should leave, but I can't when I see her slumped down on the couch, her face turned away from me.

"Quinn, I-"I start trying to give her some lame apology that would probably make me seem like a bigger asshole than I already was.

"Its fine Sam," she says, her voice is weak, I can tell she's trying to make it strong but can't, "I won't tell anyone, you don't have to worry, it'll be like it never happened." Again she still doesn't look at me.

I feel like the worlds biggest douchbag right now, I'm such an idiot. Why the hell did I have to kiss her? Now she thinks that I'm afraid she'll tell anyone; what I'm afraid of her is her hating me.

"Quinn, please, just hear me out," I say trying to get her to look at me which she does but it's not the look I'm expecting to see. She whips around and I see the tears in her eyes, which she unsuccessfully tries to cover up.

"What makes you think that I want to hear you're lame attempt of an explanation Sam?" she says, her words like venom.

"Let me guess what you're going to say," she says standing up, her eyes burning lasers into mine, "you're going to say that you can't do this because you're married and that it was a mistake and that you shouldn't have done it. Well let me tell you something Sam Evans, you're the one that did this, you're the one who kissed _me_ and you should've thought about that before you did." She sits back down and turns away from me. Feeling worse then I do right now is next to impossible.

"Just leave Sam," she says pulling her knees up to her chest, turning her back to me.

"Quinn…" I say, "I'm- I'm, so…sorry." Sorry? Yep that's all I can say. Sorry? God, kill me now.

"I get it Sam," Quinn says, "trust me I do, don't worry about me…just- just leave."

She's telling me to save her the pathetic excuse and just leave, and I do just that. She doesn't want me there and I don't want her to be even more hurt than she already is. So I just leave.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

Someone once told me crying helps heal the heart. Tonight I figured out that that was just a bunch of BS.

Crying does one thing and one thing only, it tells you that you're and idiot for thinking otherwise.

Did I really think that this was going to end in like some fairytale? Life is no fairytale.

Who the hell did Sam Evans think he was? Who the hell was he to make me feel this way? I don't need him. I'm Quinn Fabray, I don't need anybody. I don't care if people think I'm a loner, I don't need him to be happy. I can get another guy; there were a lot of single guys out there.

But I don't want any of those other guys. I want him.

Crying is just a way to let out all the pain, and if that's what it takes then I guess it's taking a lot of time to let out my pain; seeing that I've been crying for 3 hours nonstop.

I know I need to stop, I can't just sit around and brood over Sam. I need to get on with my life, I have work tomorrow and crying like this will not help my business. But can I really cope with life, when I feel like my heart is being run over by a steam roller? Probably not.

It's around two am when I decide to go to bed; my couch cushion is already soaked with tears. I have found that it is impossible to cry a river of tears, since I believe I was closer to it than anybody else ever was.

Getting conjugated with my bed, I turned off the lights and went to sleep; not without letting a few tears drop.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

(_Meanwhile_)

My knuckles are white from how hard I've been gripping the steering wheel.

The fact that I just cheated on my wife isn't really what's making me like this; all guilty and just plain old messed up. It's hard to explain how I'm feeling right now. Is my heart supposed to be aching like this?

The guilt of cheating another woman doesn't even register; the only guilt I fell is that of hurting Quinn. I feel like I just want to turn the car back around and beg on my hands and knees for Quinn forgive me; for everything.

But I don't; because I'm a coward who is afraid to speak his mind. I really don't know what's gotten into me lately, I feel like I've been craving Quinn's company.

The car's quiet, silent really; the only sound if that of the tires running across the pavement outside. The streets are surprisingly empty, which is so uncharacteristic for Los Angeles. I turn on the radio and switch it to the news, I don't know what I'd do if _'Lucky'_ came on again.

I drive home quickly, listening to some dude discuss the national debt and trying to take my mind off of everything that's been going on.

I pull into the drive way of my house and put the car in park, looking at it from the window. It looks so big…and empty. Ever since Mallory left for Milan, I hate being alone in my house.

I need to go somewhere where I can take my mind off of things. I put the car in reverse and drive away from the house; going anywhere.

After endless moments of driving, I stop at a local bar. I've never been here before; it's in the opposite side of town.

The place is packed with people; I walk over to the bar and ask the bartender for a Sam Adams Triple Bock. Yeah it's strong, but that's exactly what I want. I want to get completely intoxicated tonight and forget about everything. I don't want to feel anything, I just want to forget.

_SQ_

3 days later

Quinn's POV

May rolled into town sooner then I would've expected. It seems like time just flew by. After that eventful night 3 days ago, I've gotten better; better than I would've expected, really. I feel good, I haven't thought about Sam in days and I feel great.

I don't know how to explain my mood, it's almost like I was feeling the morning before I had seen Sam in my boutique last month; happy and brand new.

I walk into my office building with a smile on my face, saying good morning to my secretary, Lindy, and smiling to everyone I see. I go into my office and sit down on my desk, pulling out my sketch pad and finishing my summer collection.

I feel new, sure there are still times when I wish I'd wake up and Sam would be next to me; but I've come to except the fact that that will never happen. One thing that I do not want is to see him again, I know that if I see him again, all this progress I've gained on forgetting about him and moving on would all just go down the drain.

The day goes by fast; I don't even notice it when I see that it's 4:30pm. Smiling to myself for being able to finish my summer collection, I pick up my bag and walk out of my office, smiling to everyone as I walk to my car. I step inside and start driving to my apartment, listening to the radio as I go.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

I feel like shit. Well I've basically been feeling like this ever since that night at Quinn's 3 days ago. Going to work is the worst thing in the world; the hospital isn't really a place you want to go when you're feeling this bad. And the weird thing is that the thought of cheating on Mallory isn't tearing me up like I thought it would; even though it was just a kiss, it was still cheating. What is tearing me up is the thought of Quinn hating me after this, she looked so…broken, that night at her apartment, I hate myself so much for doing that to her.

I honestly can't believe how much I miss her right now, I'm not really ever used to being alone, and after Mallory left I'd been spending all my time with Quinn. I try to get out and have fun, I go out with Jack and some other guys but nothing seems to work. I know I will not be whole again until I see her; but I don't want to bother her, I don't want to hurt her anymore than I already have.

I try my hardest to get my mind in place; I'm a heart surgeon, that means I have to perform surgery on a daily basis and not being in the right state of mind is not a good thing. Thankfully I only have one surgery to perform today, some old rich man need a heart transplant and had a heart flown in from Montréal, apparently Canadians have the best hearts. The surgery is rather simple, which is good because doing a complicated surgery is hard even if you're in the right mind, now imagine how hard it would be if you're half of your mind is somewhere else.

It's past 8 pm when I walk out of the surgery room and pull my gloves off. I walk over to the dressing room and change out of my scrubs, back into my regular clothes. I never did like wearing scrubs, which isn't such a great thing seeing as I'm a surgeon and I wear scrubs fro a living. The surgery took quite a long time though, mostly the preparation, it's already dark outside.

I'm pretty sure I look like a complete mess. I know I have dark rings under my eyes, my hair is a mess and I haven't shaved in almost 3 days. I walk to my office and sit down on my comfortable desk chair. That always takes the stress of after a surgery, but this is a different type of stress. I decide not to go home just yet, I never did like being home alone; the house is so voluminous and empty without Mallory that I hate going home every night. Leaning back in my chair I close my eyes.

I'm just about a sleep when I hear my cell phone ring. Groaning, I sit up and reach for it; I answer it without looking at the caller id.

"Hello?" I ask my voice groggy.

"Sam, I'm in trouble, I need your help," the shaky frightened voice of Quinn Fabray cries. She sounds like she's in deep trouble; I immediately shoot out of my chair at the sound of her voice.

"Quinn? What's wrong? Are you okay? Where are you?" I bombard her with questions, already pulling on my jacket from the back of my chair.

"S-Sam, I'm in McArthur Park, by the intersection of 7th and Alvarado," Quinn says and I'm out the door of my office, speeding down to my car.

"McArthur Park?" I ask. Why the hell is she in McArthur Park? That's the worst place in town and she's there at night too. "Quinn, are you okay? Stay with me Quinn. Tell me what's wrong," I tell her running down the stairs because the elevator is just too damn slow.

"I was just taking a detour home, since the expressway was jammed, and then my car broke down in McArthur Park, I heard a gang fight not too far away. I don't know anybody else to call, Sam, I'm so scared," Quinn says, her voice is shaking and I know she's crying. God, please let me get to her before anything happens to her.

"Don't worry Quinn, just stay in your car and lock the doors; I'll be there in no time at all," I say running to my car and quickly driving out of the hospitals underground parking lot.

I keep Quinn on the line, making me tell her that she's okay every minute, if she doesn't say anything I know she's not okay; thank god that hasn't happened once. I'm driving through Beverly Hills when all of a sudden her voice gets cut off. I stare at my phone in shock and pick it up off the seat beside me; it says call ended. What the hell?

I take deep breathes and try not to panic, maybe her battery just died or something; this doesn't mean she's in trouble. Rationalizing with myself doesn't really help; I hit the accelerator harder and speed through the streets of Los Angeles, towards McArthur Park.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

All of a sudden the call ends; I look down at my phone and see the screen dark; the phone's dead.

I hear a few voices outside; I look out my window and see two men, wearing black leather jackets and smoking what looks like weed, walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. I quickly duck my head, praying that they don't see me. Unlike Sam's fancy car, mine isn't equipped with tinted windows.

I hear the men talking, one is telling the other that he needs to go, and the other is saying something of a goodbye. I breathe a sigh of relief, they're leaving; but I don't move from my position. I stay like this for a while, and then all of a sudden I hear a knock at my window.

I jump up, and see that one of the men is knocking on my window, smirking. My heart is beating so fast in fear; I gulp as the man knocks on the window again. The tall man with short black hair smirks at me again.

"Yo, babe, you need some help?" the man says in a deep intimidating voice. I can feel my body shaking in fear, but I do my best to ignore it.

I shake my head and stare forward, waiting for Sam to get here. But the man doesn't leave, he just stands there smirking; I see him through my peripheral vision.

Just then the door to my seat is wrenched open. I jump back and see the man standing there with a smirk on his face. "Come on babe, I can help you. Come with me," he says reaching inside the car and rubbing my shoulder. I compose myself and just shake my head.

The man just laughs and reaches inside grabbing both my hips and pulling me out of the car. I did what my instinct told me, I screamed. Yelling at him to let me go, hitting and kicking; but nothing worked. The man dragged me into a dark alley and pushed me up again the wall, with a loud thud. My head was spinning, and tears were in my eyes.

"You know you might not want to fight me sweetheart," the man said leaning so close to me that his hips were against mine, his hands on either sides of the wall.

"Please…" I say, not caring that I'm showing him I'm scared. The man just laughs, and puts his hands on either side of my hips.

"Don't worry sweetheart, you may not be able to walk after this, but I won't kill you," the man says moving his hands lower, cupping the sides of my ass. I fight against his grip and let out a few screams but nothing works, no one is around here to hear me cry.

He moves his hand to my breasts and cups both of them in his hands; squeezing them. I clench my teeth, and move to kick him, but his grasp around me is so tight; it's painful. My jacket is ripped open and dropped to the floor. I struggle against his grasp but I can't budge. Kicking and screaming don't help; I do everything in my grasp to push him away, but nothing changes.

The man continues laughing, and he yanks open my blouse, buttons flying everywhere. All of a sudden his lips are crashed to mine. I want to vomit right then and there; he wrenches my mouth open and invades it with his tongue. I feel dizzy, and my knees just about give it.

The man rips open the button of my jeans and unzips them. I hold my breath and clench my eyes shut, just waiting for it to be over. He dips his hands into my panties and laughs, hearing me wreath and cry. I can feel his erection pressing against my thigh and I just want to die right then and there.

All of a sudden I hear a voice in the background calling my name.

"Quinn!" Sam's voice rings out and all of a sudden the man stops moving. He looks at me and just as I'm about to scream for Sam he puts a hand over my mouth tightly. I try to shake out of his grasp; I scream against his hand but I'm sure Sam can't hear my weak screams. My car is so far away from here.

Sam keeps calling my name, he sounds so worried. I continue to scream and the man just cups my mouth tighter, pinching my breasts painfully, as if to tell me to stop without words. Then he kicks my knee and I would've fallen to the ground if he hadn't been holding me up.

I can hear Sam's voice getting closer, I continue to scream. I open my mouth against the man's hand and bite down hard against his palm. The man yelps and moves his hand from my mouth giving me just enough time to scream for Sam.

"Sam!" I yell as loud as I can, right before the man puts his other hand over my mouth.

"Quinn?" Sam calls loudly, I can hear him walking towards the sound of my voice, and I continue to try to scream against the man's hand.

"Quinn!" Sam says and I look to the side to see him running over to me. The man immediately lets me go and stands in front of me. I button, my pants and fold my hands over my chest; I was just about to be raped, but now I'm ashamed to be seen in front of Sam. I try not to put pressure on my knee.

"And who might you be?" he says in a daunting voice, "her boyfriend?"

Sam doesn't say anything; he just swings his fist right into the man's jaw. I can see venom in his eyes; the man immediately jerks back as soon as Sam's fist makes contact with his jaw. Sam steps towards the man and kicks him in the groin.

"How dare you touch her," he snarls kneeing the man in the stomach; the man falls to the ground in pain, clutching his groin. I see him reach for the side of his jacket, but Sam kicks whatever he was reaching for out of his jacket and on the ground towards me. It's a gun, the man tries to crawl towards it, but Sam lifts him up and pushes him against the wall, banging his head back.

"I'm going to kill you," Sam sneers, "if I ever see you again."

The man quickly nods, blood flowing from his nose and cheek. Sam twists the man's arms and I watch in horror as it cracks.

"Good then," he says releasing the man, and picking up the gun in front of me. He turns back to the man and for a second I think he's going to shoot him, but Sam just takes the bullets out and throws the gun against the wall. We watch as it cracks and breaks in two.

Sam throws the bullets down and glares at the man one more time before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around me, zipping it up in the front.

He wipes the tears away from my eyes and wraps an arm around my shoulders, leading me away from the alley. Once we're a safe distance away, he turns towards me and hugs me.

"Omigod, are you okay?" he asks running his hands gently up and down my back. I automatically melt into his strong embrace.

I nod and he pulls back to cup my face with both his hands.

"Are you sure?" he asks stroking my cheek, "do we need to go to the hospital?"

I shake my head no and bury my head against his chest, "just take me home please," I say, I basically am standing on one foot, my knee is throbbing painfully; Sam seems to notice this.

He looks down to my knee and then back up to my face, "your knee, is it okay?" he asks, he looks so worried, I can't ever think that anybody has cared for me this much.

"It hurt a little, but I'll be fine," I say, but Sam doesn't look convinced.

"My car's quite far away," Sam says looking down at my knee again, "I could carry you, you know, if you want me to."

I look up at him, my eyelashes fluttering unconsciously, I nod, "that would be nice," I say and Sam smiles at me. He leans down ad gently knocks out my knees, lifting me up into his arms, one arm under my knees, the other around my waist; carrying me bridal style. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent and melting into his strong, safe arms as he carries me towards his car. We stop at my car and he grabs my purse and locks the door to the car, telling me he'll come back and get it tomorrow.

He walks in silence, and when we reach his car he gently puts my in the passenger seat; I smile at Sam while he does this. Most married men wouldn't come if their ex-girlfriend had called them, but he did. He wasn't just anybody, he was Sam. My Sam.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

I walk over to the driver side of the car and climb inside the black leather interior. Once I'm seated I look over at Quinn who is gazing at me.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask, looking her up and down again, making sure I didn't miss any cuts or bruises.

"I'm fine Sam," she says reaching over and taking my hand, "what about you, are you okay?"

"I'm okay, my blood's boiling that I didn't kill him, but all in all I'm okay, "I answer truthfully and she smiles at me, squeezing my hand.

"You didn't have to beat him up, you know, you could've gotten hurt," she says looking down at our linked hands.

"It would've been worth it," I say looking at her; she's so beautiful and innocent, I'm so mad that I didn't kill that guy, I should've done it, I should've shot him with his own gun. I'm sure no one would really investigate into that, I mean this is McArthur Park, gun fights happen here all the time, people are killed every hour.

"Thank you Sam," Quinn says, breaking me from my murderous thoughts. I look at her and her eyes are shining with tears. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come, I just I don't," she says I can see tears fall from her eyes, her body shaking.

"Hey," I say reaching over and pulling her into a hug, kissing her hair, "its okay, you're safe now." Quinn doesn't say anything; she just climbs across the console and settles into my lap, burying her face into the crook of my neck, her tears damping my skin.

I'm surprised that she does this, but I don't care about guilt over being married. Quinn needs me right now and if you think I'm going to abandon her, you can forget about it. I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her to me, kissing her hair every now and then, whispering pacifying words to her.

We sit there for a while, neither of us talking, just holding each other. I look at my watch and see that it's almost 10 o'clock; I know neither of us should be here right now.

"Quinn," I whispered, partially thinking she was asleep, "let's go home."

Quinn looks up from my neck and nods. She looks at how we're curled up against each other and looks down biting her lip in embarrassment; I can't help but find it adorable.

"I-I'm sorry," she says, untangling herself from me and crawling over to her seat. She puts on her seat belt and I do the same, before turning the car on and driving towards her apartment.

We drive through the streets of LA in silence. I sneak glances over to her every once in a while and see her leaning her head against the window, staring out it.

We get to her apartment in a short period of time, parking in the lot; I quickly step out and walk over to her side and opening the door for her. I lean down and pick her up again, closing the door with my foot and pressing the lock button on my keys, locking the doors.

I carry her into the elevator and she buries her face into my neck, closing her eyes and tightening her grip on my neck.

When we get to her door, Quinn tells me that her knee feels better and I can let her to the ground now; I do so immediately, although I feel a little disappointed that I'm not touching her. I mentally kick myself for thinking like that when she was just about to be raped an hour ago.

Quinn pulls out the keys from her purse and unlocks the door stepping inside, I follow her. If she thinks I'm leaving her tonight, she can forget about it; I'll sleep on the couch if I have to.

I shut the door behind me and follow Quinn towards her bedroom, after kicking off my shoes. I lean against the door as she steps in the bedroom.

"I'm going to take a shower," Quinn says turning around to look at me; I feel my cheeks burning red.

"Yeah, sure, okay…um, I'll wait in the living room then," I stumper and Quinn laughs.

"You can wait here if you want," she says mentioning towards the lounge chair in her room.

I look at her and walk into her bedroom, taking it in as I do. Its average sized, with a walk-in closet and a connected bathroom. There's a large king-sized bed in the middle of the room, covered in sheets of soft colors with matching pillows. The room is painted a light green, with purple curtains and a crimson carpet.

Quinn walks to her closet and pulls out some clothes and walks into the bathroom.

"I'll be out in a bit, okay," she says as I sit down on the lounge chair.

"Yeah, sure," I say as she descends into the bathroom closing the door behind her.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

I strip of all my clothes and put them in the hamper, carefully hanging Sam's jacket against the door. I turn on the water to the shower and step inside, letting the hot water flow through my body. Removing essence of the man in the alley, I clean every inch of my skin and wash my hair. After several minutes of relaxing muscles and calming tense limbs, I step out of the shower and dry my damp skin, all while thinking of the Sam who is just beyond that door. I think about what could've happened today, versus what actually did happen. He was my knight in shining armor, saving me. I honestly don't know what would've happened if he hadn't come today, I don't want to think about what would've happened. I don't want to think about how that man's hands were all over me, I suddenly feel sick. I lean over the toilet and throw up all the food I had in my stomach. I hear Sam knock on the door; he probably heard me vomiting.

"Quinn, are you alright?" he asks. I smile; he really is the sweetest guy in the world. Too bad he's not mine; I suddenly feel guilty, he's married, but his wife was having an affair with another man and is also carrying his baby. That shakes off my guilt in a hurry; she doesn't deserve someone like Sam.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I call back, wiping my mouth and brushing my teeth.

After drying myself, I slip on a pair of panties and bra, before putting on my silk nightgown. I look towards the door, walking out in just this would be inappropriate, so I pull on my thin bath robe and grab Sam's jacket, before step out of the bathroom.

I see Sam sitting in the lounge chair looking out the window. I clear my throat and he jumps up, out of his seat standing up. I laugh at his natural antics and walk into my room.

"Thank you for tonight Sam," I say, this is probably when he should leave, but I don't want him to, I want him to stay with me tonight.

"You're welcome," Sam says putting his hands in his pockets. I walk over to him and hand him his jacket.

"I don't want to leave you tonight Quinn," he says looking into my eyes. I feel my knees getting weaker as he stares into my soul, "I'll sleep on the couch, if that's okay with you."

I look at him, the couch? He wants to sleep on the couch? I realize that I don't want him to sleep on the couch in the other room; I want him to sleep with me, in my bed.

I really don't know if I should ask him something like that; it would be highly inappropriate, seeing as we're just friends and he's married; even though we had kissed 3 days ago.

"Sam…" I start off, trying to find the right words to stay this, "could you stay with me tonight? In my bed?"

Sam's eyes widen as I ask him this heavy request. He just looks at me for a while before nodding.

"Um…Yeah, sure… Quinn," he says, not making any move to the bed.

I smile, that actually went better than I expected it to go. I walk over to the side of the bed that I usually sleep on and Sam walks over to the other.

I slip off my robe, and Sam stares at me his eyes going down my body. I blush, my face a deep crimson, and get in beneath the covers; Sam just stands by the bed. I laugh at his shyness, we might be adults now, but it still seems like we're in high school.

I pull back the covers, "You can get comfortable Sam," I say eyeing his blue shirt and black dress pants. Sam looks rather uncomfortable, but he unbuttons his shirt revealing a tight white t-shirt underneath, which does nothing to conceal his toned chest and ripped abs. I look away biting my lip, as he slips out of his pants and gets into the bed in his boxers and t-shirt. I look back at Sam, who is staring at the ceiling; he senses me looking at him and turns his head to look at me.

"Are you sure this is okay?" I ask, turning over to my side and looking at him; he nods.

"Its fine, Quinn," he says looking at me, "I just want to make sure your okay."

I smile and scoot closer to him and lay my head against his chest, sighing as he wraps his arms around me, surrounding me in his warm, strong embrace. Sam turns off the lamp beside the bed and I close my eyes, dozing off to the beating of his heart.

**So... what did you think?**

**Love it? Hate it? Let me know.**

**BTW, how do you guys feel about the POV's? Should i just make it third person instead? Let me know.**

**R&R**


	9. Love

**So, this chapter is the start of something big. The next one will come really soon. Enjoy!**

Quinn's POV

I wake up cold the next morning. Sam isn't here, and neither are his clothes; I sigh. He probably left when he woke up, he stayed with me for one night and that was probably already too much. I sit up slowly and stretch my hands over my head, recalling the memory of the alley last night, and then shaking that off.

I hear my stomach grumble, I didn't eat dinner last night, Sam and I fell asleep as soon as we got here. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and walk into the bathroom, I start brushing my teeth. I always hated morning breath; just something about it didn't sit well with me, probably the taste and most likely the smell.

I walk out of the bathroom and into the kitchen; I don't plan on going to work today, but food is a must. Walking into the kitchen I am met with the man of my dreams.

"Good morning," Sam says smiling, he walks over to me and hands me a cup of coffee. I look at him, he is fully clothed and that makes me feel self-conscious seeing as I'm showing quite a bit of skin.

"Um…uh, good morning," I stutter after wrapping a thin afghan that was on the couch, around my body, I take the cup from his hands and taking a sip, the hot coffee warming up my insides in a hurry. What was Sam doing here? Didn't he leave? Well, obviously he didn't since he's frying bacon in my kitchen right now.

I look over at the dining table and see that he has two plates with French toast and eggs laid out, a plate of pancakes, a jug of orange juice, and a bottle of maple syrup in the middle of the table. I walk over and sit down on one of the two chairs.

"You made all of this?" I ask Sam as he flips over the bacon in the pan, my stomach grumbles at the aroma coming from the pan, but thankfully he doesn't hear.

"Yep," Sam says turning his head to look at me, "I figured you'd be hungry from not eating dinner last night, and I didn't know what you wanted to eat, so I basically made everything that I found in your fridge, is that okay?" I nod and smile at him; that was sweet of him, classic Sam.

"Eat something," Sam says gesturing to the food on the table, "I know you love bacon, so I decided to make some, I don't know if it will meet your standards but it's the best I could do."

Sam walks over to the table with the pan in his hands and slides the bacon onto my plate.

I laugh, "we'll see how you did Mr. Evans," I joke even though I'm sure by the heavenly scent coming from my plate that it could be anything but delicious.

Sam smiles, "I went over and got your car from McArthur, and I had the door fixed, it was a little winded," he says before sitting on the seat adjacent from mine, the same seat that he sat in when he came over for dinner 3 days ago, and when he had kissed me…

"Thank you so much Sam," I say and Sam nods smiling.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Sam says interrupting my thoughts as he takes a bight of his French toast.

"Huh?" I say looking at him, "oh yeah, let's eat." I pick up a piece and take a bite, moaning at the delicious, crispy food in my mouth. The taste was unlike anything I'd ever tasted before, there was something in it that I couldn't call out exactly that gave it a special taste; it wasn't just regular frozen fried bacon, there was something else in it.

I look over at Sam who was watching me intently, "so… what'd you think?" he asks as I took another bite of the bacon, basically popping the entire thing in my mouth.

"It was delicious," I say truthfully, looking at him, "what did you put in it, it isn't just plain old bacon, there's something else in it for sure."

Sam smiles, "it's a secret extra ingredient I put in," he says laughing as I pout, "I'm actually surprised that you picked it up, Mallory never says anything, she doesn't notice a difference."

The room gets really awkward all of a sudden, I know it's just a harmless comment; but the mentioning of his wife turns things around a different direction. I had totally forgotten he had a wife, and maybe he had too.

"Well, it's really good," I say breaking the, what seemed like long, silence.

Sam looks at me, he doesn't smile; his face is emotionless. "Quinn I'm really sorry about that night," he says sincerely, I know he's referring to the night when we kissed.

I shake my head as if it was nothing, "I forgave you for that already, and I wasn't your fault I mean, we never got any closure in our relationship and that was it," I rationalize as Sam looks at me confused. I don't want to bring up that the kiss meant the world to me and that I was heartbroken when he pulled away, I don't want to lose our friendship; I thought I was happy before but really I was just numb, emotionless.

"Closure?" Sam asks looking at me and I nod my head.

"Yeah, our relationship after that night in the motel room kind of just fell apart, we didn't properly end it and now we have," I say, I know the words make no sense coming out of my mouth so I try to explain it better, "you wanted to know what it would feel and so did I, but after it happened we both realized that it meant nothing, right?" I know that I'm lying through my teeth, but I can't tell him that I still love him.

Sam seems to get it that time, he doesn't do or say anything for a while, he seems to be in deep thought, but then he nods, "yeah," he says answering my somewhat rhetorical question.

I nod back and we go back to eating our breakfast in silence, it hurts me that he said 'yeah'. I don't know, but I kind of wanted him to say that it meant something to him, but how could it? He was married, happily married at that, and even though his wife was cheating on him, he didn't know and was still in love with her. Oh how badly I want to tell him about Mallory, that she's pregnant and not with his child; but would he really believe me? Probably not, I mean why would he believe me over her? She was his wife and I was his jealous ex-girlfriend. And even if he did believe me, I can't just tell him like that; I've said it before and I'll say it again, I refuse to be Rachel Berry. I made a promise to myself before I went to talk to Sam in his office that day, oh so long ago, that was that I was not going to break up his marriage.

He could live a happy life with Mallory and her child, who he would think was his child too, the kid would probably have blonde or brown hair, which wouldn't raise any suspicions because Sam's natural hair color was brown and Mallory's was blonde, Sam and Nate were alike in many ways and the baby wouldn't look like Sam, but it wouldn't be so much as to cause any suspicion.

After we finish breakfast, the table is surprisingly clear; I didn't know I was that hungry and apparently he was too. We both walk over to the sink and do the same thing we had 3 days ago, I wash and he dries.

We don't say anything, just small talk, like he asked me if I was going to work today and I said no, he didn't ask why or anything. Chatting about the weather and work, we get through washing the dishes without hitting any deep topics.

"So, I guess I should get going now," he says after we finish the last plate.

"Um, yeah," I say, but I don't want him to go, I don't want to be alone, but I can't ask him to stay.

"Yeah," he repeats and we both walk towards the door, "you'll be alright?"

I smile at his concern; I can't help but find it so sweet. "Yes," I lie, "thank you for everything Sam."

We reach the door and he turns around to face me. "You're welcome, Quinn," he says, "you know you can call me if you veer need anything."

I nod, "thanks Sam," I say smiling, Sam smiles too; and then gives me a short awkward hog.

"I, uh, I'll see you later, Quinn," he says after pulling away.

I nod and he opens the door and steps out. "Bye," I say as he steps out.

"Bye," he says before walking away, I close the door and walk over to my couch and collapse on it, burying my head on one of the cushions and letting a few tears drop in the process.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

Driving to work, there was only one thing going through my mind. I had gone home after leaving Quinn's, showered and changed and now was going to work. Today's a Friday, which is good, because after I get through this day, I will have to days off.

She had said that the kiss had meant nothing, that it was just us wanted 'closure'. Well, it had meant something to me, I didn't know what it was, but it had meant something strong; but she obviously didn't feel the same way.

I drive to work quickly and head to my office; I don't have much to do today. Just a few check ups here and there and if I'm in a good mood, I'll let some people without appointments come by.

As soon as I sit down in my desk chair my cell phone starts ringing. Fishing it out of my pocket, I answer it, not bothering to look at the caller id.

"Hello," I say in a bored tone.

"Hi honey!" replies a fervent Mallory.

"Hey, Mal," I say, I don't really want to talk to her right now, which is odd since I should want to talk to my wife who is oversees and that I haven't talked to in 3 days.

"Are you okay?" she asks, "you sound mad or something."

"No, no, I'm not mad," I lie to some extent; I'm not really mad, more annoyed, "I'm just at work and it's been a long week." Has it ever.

"Oh, you're at work," says Mallory, "I totally forgot the time differences."

"That's alright," I say, I shouldn't be this short with her; she's my wife after all.

"You sure Sam?" she asks, "I don't want to bother you." Oh, that was low, now I feel like an asshole.

"No, no, you wont bother me," I say, even though I don't want to talk to her right now, I can't be rude, she's my wife. I've never pushed her away before but I feel like I want to right now, which scares me to an extent.

"Sam, I can tell you're kind of bothered right now," Mallory says laughing, "it's alright; I'll call again later, during a better time."

I half smile at how well she knows me, "thanks," I say.

"No problem, love you," she says waiting me to say it back, but I don't.

"Yeah," I say before hanging up, why didn't I tell her I love her? Was this because of Quinn?

Well, duh, ofcourse it was because of Quinn.

These thoughts haunt me for the rest of the day. In and out, I'm determined to find out what this feeling that I have when ever Quinn enters my mind is. Why everything seems to remind me of her, and why I just can't get her out of my mind; her beautiful face, her angelic laugh, her tempting lips- pressed against mine, moving in perfect synchronization. I just can't seem to stop thinking about her. I even was semi-hard when I was seeing one of my patients, thinking about Quinn in a way which no married man should think about any other woman but his wife like that; that doesn't even seem to bother me anymore, something is definitely going on.

I should go straight home that evening, but instead I go to a gathering one of my friends is throwing at the Santa Monica pier. Why I decided to go, after I had declined, I had no idea. I just couldn't go to that house.

I park my car in one of the small parking spaces they have on the beach and walk out and towards the small gathering.

"Sammy boy!" my college friend Ryan called as soon as he saw me. He walked over to me, a beer bottle in hand.

"Hey Ryan," I say as he swings and arm around my shoulder and leads me to the small group of friends.

"I thought you weren't going to come Sam," Ryan says as I sit down in one of the chairs and accept a beer.

"Changed my mind I guess," I say taking a sip.

"Where's the wifey, Sam?" asks one of my other friends, Jason sitting down beside me.

"In Milan," I answer and they all, nod.

"Well, that's good, now you can finally have some fun," Ryan says patting me on the back.

"You'll realize what fun is as soon as you tie the knot," I tell Ryan raking another sip of my beer, and Jason laughs.

"Oh, no man," Ryan says putting his hands up, "I'm not the kind of guy you can tie down."

I laugh, I actually never thought of me like that, I mean I purposed to my first girlfriend in high school.

"Mallory in Milan for work, Sam?" asks Jason's girlfriend, Macey, whose sitting beside Jason.

"Yeah, something for the newspaper," I say and Macey nods, they're good friends Macey and Mallory.

"Sam you look like you just came from work" Ryan says eyeing my attire, which is a dark blue dress shirt and khaki

"That's probably because I just did," I say truthfully, drinking me beer.

"You gotta loosen up more Sammy," Ryan says, sitting down on the other side of me and I just shrug.

"Hey we're going swimming, you guys game?" asked Jason gesturing to the water, which the other's were already making their way over to.

"Nah," Ryan says, "I'm gonna chill here with Sammy, who obviously didn't bring his swim trunks." Ryan pats me on the back before chugging down some more beer.

"Kay," Jason says before following Macey to the ocean. I just watch the water move along for a while before Ryan whistles.

"Would you look at that," he says pointing out some blonde girl that I couldn't make out, she was sitting on the beach reading a book, "she's smokin!" Ryan gets up. I just shake my head and laugh.

"Oh, wait till you see her, you wouldn't be laughing then," he says taking his shirt off, leaving him in only his shorts and flip-flops

"Where're you going?" I ask as he starts walking towards the beach, a football in hand.

Ryan turns around and looks at me, "to get me some hot ass, gotta turn on the charm you know," he says smirking, and walking towards that girl. I laugh again and turn back to the ocean, watching the waves.

_SQ_

The beach always made me feel relaxed, there's just something about the water and the sand. I settle down in one of the beach chairs and open a cheesy, romantic novel, the heroine in those books always seem to get their prince charming in the end. I love how the sun soaks up my skin; I'm wearing a cream colored bikini with a white, see through cover up on top.

Just then a football comes flying in my direction and just misses me by about a few inches. I stand up and pick up the football, looking around for the person who threw it.

"Whoa, I'm sorry," came a voice from behind me. I turned around to meet a tall, shirtless man with dark brown hair; he was cute, but definitely not as hot was Sam.

"Here," I say, handing him the football and sitting back down in my chair, opening up my book.

"That was just so, close to hitting you," the man said, why isn't he leaving? He's flirting that's why. "I'm really sorry," he says again.

I give a small smile, what was the harm of flirting with some cute guy that you met on the beach. Something inside of me tells me that I shouldn't be doing this, but Sam's not my boyfriend, he's my married friend who doesn't like me that way.

"It's alright," I say smiling; the guy sits down in the chair beside me and extends his hand.

"Hi, I'm Ryan," he says as I shake his hand.

"Quinn," I reply and he nods.

"That's a really pretty name," he says, "it suits someone as pretty as you." Yep he definitely is flirting. Sam never called me pretty; he always called me beautiful…

I shake the thought of Sam away and focus on the guy in front of me.

I smile, "thank you, you're not so bad either," I say and he laughs.

"I try," he says smiling, "so Quinn, you have a boyfriend?"

I shake my head, Sam doesn't count as a boyfriend, even though I'm in love with him, Sam doesn't care about me that way, "Nope, single," I say and Ryan smiles wider.

"That's shocking," he says, "I pretty girl like you is bound to have a guy."

"No," I say, "don't have one."

"Well, my friends and I are having a get together over there," he says pointing to the pier, "you wanna come join us, I'd be really happy if you would."

I smile, what's the harm in that? I need something to take my mind off of Sam, and Ryan's hot. "Sure," I say standing up and leaving my book on the chair.

"Awesome," Ryan says taking my hand and leading me towards the pier where his friends were.

_SQ_

I laugh at something Ben, one of my other friends had just said, before taking another sip of my light beer, no need to get drunk tonight.

I was actually having a good time, I forgot what it was like coming to one of these get-together's and seeing friends; Mallory hated these; she said they were a waste of time.

"Hey guys," Ryan says from behind me as I take another sip of beer, "this is Quinn." I whip my head around and almost choke on my beer as Quinn Fabray stands before me. My Quinn Fabray.

I have to cough violently to stop from choking on the beer; Jason pats my back.

"Whoa dude," he says, "slow it down." Everyone laughs and give a fake chuckle before turning back to Quinn, who is wearing a barely there bikini which is 100% visible through her see-through cover up.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, well more demand.

"I came to the beach and Ryan invited me here," she says smiling at Ryan, the way that I want to pound Ryan's face in.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Ryan asks, and I nod, I'm about to say that she was mine first so he should back off, but Quinn answers first.

"We're just old friends," she says smiling sweetly at Ryan, its almost as if she's doing this on purpose to make me jealous, she can't honestly like _Ryan_ can she?

"Huh," Ryan says sitting down beside me, "you didn't tell me you had a hot friend like Quinn, Sammy."

"Yeah, my bad," I say and everyone laughs, I try to be as calm as I can, but right now I really want to kill Ryan.

"Hey there're no more chairs for Quinn sit in," Ryan says, popping open a beer and taking a sip.

"Oh, that's alright," Quinn says, "can I sit in your lap?" I just about choke on my breath this time; Ryan smirks.

"Absolutely," he says and Quinn sits sideways in his lap, Ryan puts his hand on Quinn's bare thighs and I just about lose it right there. What the hell is gotten into her? Wasn't she almost just raped yesterday? Why was she doing this?

I can't concentrate on anything anyone's saying or doing for the next few minutes, all I can focus on is how Ryan's fingers are skating up and down Quinn's exposed thigh. I try taking deep breaths to calm my nerves, but nothing seems to work; I compose my self as much as I can, but when Ryan's hand starts to go higher up her thigh and he starts nibbling at her neck; I have to do something.

"Hey, Quinn, can I talk to you for a second?" I ask walking over to her and Ryan.

Quinn turns around and gives me a confused look, "um… yeah, sure," she says waiting for me to say something; all while Ryan is glaring at me.

"No, I mean in private," I say and Ryan gives me a questioning look through his glare.

"Um…what are you going to tell me in private?" Quinn asks, and I give a half-hearted laugh.

"You'll find out when we're in private," I say, picking up her hand which is dangerously close to Ryan's dick and pulls her out of his lap and leading her towards an empty place on the pier.

"What are you doing Sam?" Quinn asks yanking her hand away from mine as soon as we're out of sight.

"I can ask you the same question," I say my tome is rude I know, but I'm too jealous to even care now.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, putting her hands on her hips clearly annoyed

"With Ryan," I say, raising my voice a little, gesturing towards the group, "what the hell are you doing? He's all over you and you just let it happen!"

"Well, maybe I want to let it happen!" she retorts back, pointing her finger at me.

"Why would you want to let anything happen after what happened yesterday?" I say, just as mad as her right now, I know I probably shouldn't have brought that up but I'm too mad to care.

"Why do you care Sam? Huh?" she snaps at me, her voice getting louder, "you sound like a jealous ex-boyfriend right now and you have no right to do that because your married and you even said that that kiss meant nothing to you!"

"I'm not jealous!" I lie, my anger boiling, not really at her, but the world in general "I'm just trying to look after you."

"I didn't ask you to look after me Sam!" she says, "I can look after myself!" She turns around and begins walking back to the group before I get a hold of her wrist and spin her around; our faces are inches apart, I want to kiss so badly.

"Why are you being like this, Quinn?" I ask, "I thought we were good after I left your apartment this morning."

"We were until, you asked to talk to me in private a few minutes ago," she says breaking out of my grasp and stepping back.

"I care about you Quinn," I say truthfully, "I just want you to be alright."

"Well, you lost all right to want anything from me when you got married Sam!" she says, raising her voice.

I just stare at her, stunned. "What?" I ask.

"Do you remember the last thing I said to you before you left Lima?" she asked, her eyes are getting watery now.

_**Flashback**_

_I walk up to the Fabray household, my hands shaking as I walk up the stairs to the porch. I don't know why I chose to tell Quinn face to face, I told everyone else over text. That was probably a bit insensitive; I even told Mercedes who was supposed to be my 'girlfriend' via text. But Quinn, she was different, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell her face to face, I just had to see her one more time._

_Straightening out my clothes and hair, which probably seems stupid because I'm not here to take her out on a date, but here to tell her that I'm going to rip her out of my heart and move to Tennessee._

_After taking a deep breath, I bring my finger up to the door bell and press the button. I shove my hands in my pockets and wait for Quinn to answer the door. I know her mom's not home because there's only Quinn's car in the driveway. _

_After a few moments, Quinn Fabray, looking as beautiful as ever, opened the door. I looked up to see her looking at me with a confused face._

"_Sam?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips, giving me a look that said I better get on with what I was here for because she had better things to do. _

"_Hey, Quinn," I say feeling slightly uncomfortable coming to her house after the breakup, and especially after what happened in the motel room, before Nationals._

"_What are you doing here Sam," she asked her tone cold and definitely not hospitable._

"_I need to tell you something," I say and she cocks her head slightly to the side waiting for me to say what I need to say._

"_Yes?" she says after I don't say anything for a while._

"_Can I come in? I really don't want to tell you out here, "I ask Quinn and she sighs, stepping out of the way and letting me into the house._

_I follow her into the living room and sit down beside her on the couch. She turns to face me, waiting for me to say something._

"_I'm moving," I say all in one breath; Quinn doesn't seem to register my words when I first say them._

"_What?" she asks or more breathes._

"_My dad got a job in Tennessee and I'm we're moving there," I say and looks emotionless for a while; she's probably in shock or something._

"_Wh-when?" she chokes out, her eyes shut tightly._

"_Today," I say and I can see small tears drop from her clenched eyes and down her cheeks. "Quinn," I say taking her hands in mine, "look at me."_

_She doesn't do that, what she does is launch herself into my arms, burying her face into my chest; sobbing quietly. I rub her back, and kiss her hair._

"_Don't leave me Sam, please," she croaks out from her dry throat, her voice is muffled from the fabric of my shirt._

"_I don't want to Quinn," I say pressing my face into her hair, "I have no choice."_

_Quinn wraps her arms around my neck tighter, and shakes her head, "no, Sam, please don't go," she says, her tears soaking up my shirt, but I really don't care._

"_Quinn, I-" I start tell her that I can't, but she cuts me off with a kiss._

_Her lips are pressed to mine, perfectly fitted together, like they were meant to be. I kiss her back, my hand moving to her waist and hers, going tighter around my neck, something that I thought would for sure choke me but fortunately it doesn't. She moves so that she is now sitting in my lap, without braking the kiss; she is sitting up on her knees, on either side of my thighs._

"_I love you," she whispers in between the small breaks we take for air._

_I pull away from her lips and lean my forehead against hers. "I love you too," I say and she gives a small smile through her tears, "I never stopped."_

"_Neither did I," she says, "I wanted to be with you after that night in the motel room, but I was stupid and I wanted to be prom queen."_

"_Hey, it's alright," I say, wrapping my arms around her waist, "I should've waited for you after that, but I didn't, I'm sorry."_

"_You never did anything wrong Sam," she says looking at me, "I can't help think that I ruined your time in Lima."_

"_You made my time here the best it's ever been," I say before my prepaid phone buzzes in my pocket._

_I look at the caller id and see that it's my mom, I answer it._

"_Hello," I say, as Quinn is watches me._

"_Sam, we finished loading up the moving truck, we're about to leave," my mom says hurriedly through the phone, "you need to get over here, right now."_

_I look over at Quinn, she is staring at me carefully, "Alright," I say hanging up and turning to Quinn. _

"_What is it?" she asks looking at me._

"_I have to go Quinn, we're leaving right now," I say and Quinn's face gets sad all of a sudden, but she just nods and we both stand up._

_We walk to the door and I wrap my arms around Quinn as we get there, "I love you so much," I whisper in her ear as I hug her. Quinn buries her face into the crook of my neck._

"_I love you too, Sam," she says and I love the way those words fall from her lips._

_I pull away and kiss her. It's earth shattering, and perfect; gentle yet passionate. We stand there kissing for a few minutes before I pull away, knowing I have to leave._

"_I'm going to miss you so much, Quinn," I say truthfully, I can't help wonder life without seeing her everyday._

"_I'm going to miss you too," she says. She warps her arms around me and hugs me one more time "I'll wait for you Sam…"_

"I'll wait for you," I answer Quinn's pending question.

"Yeah!" Quinn says tears in her eyes now, "and you said the same thing, but only one of us waited Sam."

"I tried to wait for you Quinn, but I couldn't for seven years!" I say, hating the tears that we dropping for her eyes; I hate myself for making her feel that way.

"I did!" she says, "I waited seven years for you Sam, seven years! But now I realize that that was a big mistake."

I'm flabbergasted by the time she finishes her sentence, she couldn't possible have waited for me for seven years. That's impossible. I want to tell her that it wasn't a mistake, but what would I say?

"Quinn…" I start to say, but I don't get to finish my sentence because she is already storming off towards the parking lot.

"Quinn!" I call running after her; she turns around and gives me a deadly glare, through her tears.

"Just leave me alone Sam," she says before storming off again; I watch as she gets in her car and drives off.

I stand there for a while, waiting for her to come back, but I know that she won't. When she doesn't, I still continue to stand there for what seems like about half and hour before I walk over to the group and see Ryan stand up as soon as he sees me.

"Where's Quinn?" he asks, looking around for her.

"You're probably going to be mad at me, but Quinn left," I say, "I'm sorry." But actually I'm not one bit sorry, Ryan doesn't deserves a girl like Quinn, and Quinn deserves a guy a whole lot better than Ryan.

"She just left?" he asks looking towards the parking lot.

"Yeah," I lie, I can't tell them what happened, the word would get out to Mallory in a hurry.

"Don't worry man, I'm not mad," Ryan says clapping me on the back,"bros before hoes right?"

I'm somewhat mad because Quinn isn't a hoe, but relived that he doesn't start asking questions. I laugh and sit down in my seat, "yeah," I say and get tugged into Jason's conversation about how the Yankees are going to win the World Series this year.

After a while Ryan says, "you know I really miss that Quinn, I think I loved her." I don't say anything back, who knows maybe he did love her.

But everyone else laughs. "Dude!" Jason says, "you don't love her, you just met her a few minutes ago, you can't possibly love her."

"Oh yeah Mr. Romantic," Ryan says challenging Jason, "Tell me what love is then?" I'm curious to hear what Jason has to say because I barely even know what love is myself and I'm the one who's married.

"Love is when you care about that person more than you care about yourself, when you care about their well being better than your own," Jason says and I'm frozen by his words, "love's when you hate when that person's upset and hate yourself when you're the one who makes that person upset. It's when you can't get them out of your mind, and everything seems to remind you of that person."

Realization hits me like a giant freight train. I love Quinn Fabray. Yes, I love her, there's no other way to say it. I don't know if Jason's definition is the right definition for love, but I am 150% sure that I love Quinn Fabray.

"Whoa man," Ryan says, taking another swing of his beer, "you've totally turned into a girl, you sure you haven't grown a vagina in those last minute?" Everyone but me laugh, I'm too shocked to laugh.

How did this happen? How did I fall back in love with Quinn Fabray? When did this happen? I contemplate these questions, trying to find an answer. But there isn't one; there isn't an answer to love. And yes, I do sound like a chick- all cheesy and corny, but like I said before that's what love does to you.

I know I have to do something, I can't just be love in Quinn and not do anything about it; it's already eating me up inside.

I stand up, "I have to leave," I say to the others and run towards my car before they can even press any questions. I get in my car and quickly pull out of the beach, driving towards the one place that I need to be right now. Quinn Fabray's apartment.

**Cliffhanger‼! Don't worry I'll have the next one updated real soon. Tell me what you think. Love it? Hate it? Let me know.**

**R&R**


	10. Together At Last

**Okay, this chapter a lot of smut, really hot though. **

**Warning: this chapter is rated M. **

**Enjoy!**

Quinn's POV

I hate crying, which is odd because it seems like I've been doing that lot nowadays. I don't want to cry over Sam, but it's involuntary; I can't get him out of my head. He's everywhere; I don't want to think about him, I want to forget that he even existed.

Why should I feel this way? He was just a boy, nothing more. I'm Quinn Fabray, I don't need anyone.

I went straight home after leaving the beach; I changed into a baggy t-shirt and sweat pants, and was now currently eating out of a tub of ice cream and watching the _Notebook_, my favorite movie of all time. It's my guilty pleasure, Noah and Allie find each other after years apart and end up together in the end; but I doubt that Sam and I will ever end up like that.

I'm just at the part when Noah goes off to war when I notice that my tub of ice cream is finished. Sighing I pause the movie and get up, walking over to the fridge to get another tub; ice cream helps heal the soul.

Just then I hear knocking at my door, putting the ice cream back in the fridge I walk over to the door and open it. I regret not looking through the peephole before answering as soon as I opened the door. It was Sam…

"Sam…" I say, I'm more than shocked to see him here right now. I didn't expect to chase after me, why would he? He's married, but here he is standing at my door way looking as sexy as ever.

"I need to talk to you Quinn," he says, he looks like he basically ran here, his hair is tousled and windswept.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Sam," I say, the words hurt as they come out, but they need to be said. I was never going to forget about him if he wouldn't leave me alone. "I think it's best if you should just leave," I say turning away from the hurt look in his eyes, I can't bear them.

I'm about to shut the door when Sam puts a hand out and hold the door open, "wait, Quinn, please hear me out," he says, his eyes are pleading at me to listen to him, and I give in because I always do to him.

"Fine," I say, turning around and walking into the living room and turning off the TV, before turning around and standing in front of the side of the couch. I look at Sam, who has come in after shutting the door behind him.

"What do you need to say, Sam," I say impatiently, if he's here to say how sorry he is than he can just go home. I don't want his pity.

"I wish I had a better way to say this, Quinn but I really don't," he says taking a step closer to me, "I love you Quinn."

I feel like I'm about to faint. Did he just say what I think he just said? No he couldn't have. Yes, yes he did, he had just told me that he loves me. Sam Evans loves me. Sam fucking Evans just told me he loves me, me Quinn Fabray. He loves me! I feel lightheaded and over the top at the same time. I stare at him for a while, he looked genuine, real. The man I love with all my heart just told me he loves me back. I try to find words that wouldn't some, what were you supposed to say in a situation like this? Sam's looking at me for some reaction, but I don't show any.

"W-wh-why?" I croak out, my throat is dry and I can barely even speak.

"I never stopped loving you Quinn," Sam says taking another step towards, "seeing you just made me realize that I never ever stopped."

I feel tears gather up in my eyes, "I should've waited for you, I should've waited a lifetime for you, but I thought you wouldn't even remember me, and even if you did I was pretty sure you were already married with kids or something," Sam continues and a few tears escape my eyes, "the night before I got married I wanted to call you but I didn't have your number; I called Puck and asked him for your number and he told me you two were together. I knew that you were probably going to end up with him because of Beth, and I couldn't bear to hear your voice so I didn't call you."

"Sam I-"I try to speak but he cuts me off.

"Let me finish please, I need you to hear this," Sam says and I nod, "I never loved anyone else more than I love you, seeing you again here, made me realize that. I was in denial you see, I didn't want to love you because I didn't want to be a cheater, but I couldn't stay away from you anymore." My heart is racing at a hundred miles an hour right now. The words that he just said hypnotize me; I feel like my head is no longer controlling my actions, my heart is.

"I'm in love with you Quinn Fabray," he says and I don't care anymore, I don't care that he's married, I don't care that I'm supposed to forget about him, I don't care that if I do this right now I'll be helping him cheat, I don't care about anything but him.

I launch myself into him arms and meet his lips with mine. "I love you too," I say against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer to me. Sam didn't move at first, probably trying to recover from shock probably, but soon he was kissing me back, his large lips, were like magic against mine; it was amazing. Our lips moving together in perfect harmony; Sam's hand is tangled in my hair and the other one is around my waist, pulling me closer to him. Sam pushes me back against the side of the couch, continuing to kiss me with his perfect lips. I can't feel his wedding band on his left hand which just takes away any thoughts of guilt. My hands are everywhere, moving down his chest, around his neck, in his hair, on his cheek; I never want this moment to end.

I still can't believe this is happening to me, this is exactly like what happened in the _Notebook;_ maybe I would get a happy ending after all. I smile against Sam's lips as he kisses me, a million different things gong through my head but I can only concentrate on his mouth on mine. I try to process what Sam had said to me, Puck had never told me that he had called, probably because Puck is a dick who didn't want me talking to Sam, because he knew I would've gone straight to him as soon as I heard his voice.

My heart feels complete; Sam and I were meant to be together. We've always been fighting for each other; I love his so much that I'm sure Juliet never loved Romeo this much or Catherine never loved Heathcliff this way; not even Allie and Noah loved each other as much as I love Sam Evans.

Sam pulls away all of a sudden, but doesn't let me go; he leans his forehead against mine and gazes into my eyes. I gaze into his back, seeing love and passion. "How could you ever love someone like me?" Sam whispers and I smile; he's still the same self-conscious Sam that I had met in high school.

"I could ask you the same question," I reply and he just holds me tighter.

"I've been in love with you ever since I first laid my eyes on you Quinn Fabray, I love you not just because you're breathtakingly beautiful, but because you're loving, compassionate, funny, smart, hardworking, insecure, determined, and just plain old perfect to me," he says holding my body tightly against his.

I feel tears in my eyes, "you really think of me that way?" I ask and he nods. I crash my lips to his, trying to show him how much I loved him through one kiss; which is highly impossible because I love him so much.

I pull away after a few moments and look into his eyes, "I love you because your sweet, protective, not to mention handsome and hot with those abs, you're wonderful, you treat me like a princess and you take care of me," I say answering his earlier question and bringing another kiss up to his lips, "I love you because you're dorky, because you care so much for people, and because you're the best person I have ever known."

Sam crashes his lips into my mine before I even finish the sentence. I smile against his lips and kiss him back, loving the way he holds me close as he kisses me. I feel myself getting aroused just by kissing him; I want him so much right now.

I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist; he is holding me up by the butt, squeezing it lightly. I moan as he does so; he licks my bottom lip for entrance and I open my mouth to receive his tongue. His tongue presses against mine languidly, but soon my tongue is fighting with his ferociously, tangling with his in our battle for dominance.

I slide my hands under Sam's shirt feeling the hard hot skin of his bare shoulder; Sam moans against my mouth and moves his lips to the corner of my mouth and moving in slowly down my cheek to my jaw and down to my neck where he begins sucking gently. I moan loudly and Sam laughs against my neck; it feels so good to have his lips on me after all these years. I want more; I need more. I let my feet drop to the ground and pull Sam into the bedroom by the back of his neck.

Sam's lips return to mine as soon as we enter my bedroom and I start working off the buttons of his shirt. Suddenly I stumble backwards and we both fall on the bed, him on top of me, but he holds himself up to not crush me. I work off the buttons on his shirt and try to get it off his body; he assists me in doing so and throws it on the floor, and kicks off his shoes too. I run my hands up and down his chest, nails racking over his wash-board abs. Sam lays me back against the pillows and starts kisses my neck, running his hands up and down my body. It feels so good; I never want his hands to leave mine.

"…Sam…" I moan as he cups the side of my ass.

Sam literally rips my shirt trying to get to my body. I moan at his aggressiveness, as he yanks my sweatpants down before I kick them off; leaving me in only my matching black lace bra and panties. Sam cups both of my breasts in his hands and we both moan at the contact, he reaches behind me and unhooks the bra. Sam kisses at my neck and moves south, pulling away the bra with his teeth and attacking my chest with his hungry mouth. I moan and whimper at the contact of his warm, wet mouth against my breasts. His hands are moving down between my legs, feeling the heat come from my vagina; he presses his fingers against my wet panties and I whimper, wanting him so badly.

Sam's mouth continues to be engaged to my chest, sucking and licking my fully-erect nipples. My eyes roll to the back of my head as he does so; I thread my fingers in his hair and hold his face to my chest. I feel Sam smile at my sounds of approval as he sucks roughly at my nipple, his teeth grazing its sensitive skin.

I can feel Sam's erection pressing into the side of my thigh, as I realize that he still has his pants on. I move my hands from his hair and down to his hips to unbuckle his belt. Sam moans against my breast and I sigh, opening the button of his pants and pulling his zipper down. Sam kicks off his pants and moves his lips from my down my flaming body to my panties.

I gasp as Sam starts tugging my panties off with his teeth, I can feel flames in the pit of my abdomen as my panties moved to my knees and I kick them off. Sam presses two fingers against my clit, and massages his fingers down my slits; I continue to moan and whimper for more, loving the way he caresses my flesh. Sam puts in one finger in my entrance and I gasp.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks moving his lips from my stomach and looking at my face.

I nod quickly I never want it to stop, "I'm perfect," I say, or rather moan. Sam brings his lips up to mine and gives me a hot, openmouthed kiss. I run one of my hands up and down Sam's muscular body, feeling his hard abs under my dainty fingers; the other hand tangles in his hair as Sam slips his tongue into my mouth, causing me to moan.

His finger works in and out of my entrance, he then adds another finger, causing to me to let out a loud moan as he continues to pleasure me. I can feel Sam's cock poking me through his boxers; I hook my thumb around his boxers and pull them down before he kicks them to the ground joining the rest of our clothing. I stare and his length and moving my hand up and down his shaft. There we lay, our naked bodies pressed against one another as he thrusts his finger deeper into me.

"Sam!" I scream out his name as he slams his fingers deeper into me, I start moving my hips up. Sam thrusts his fingers harder and faster into me and I know that I'm close.

My breath quickens pace and I lay their panting as Sam removes his fingers and I whimper at the loss of contact, but am eager to have him inside of me, to make love to me.

Sam kisses me on the lips, his hands grasping my thighs as his tongue explores my mouth.

"I love you so much," he mutters against my lips and I smile.

"I love you too," I say moving my hand down to his throbbing member. It was so big, hot and wet in my hands. Sam moans against my mouth and I flip us around so that I'm on top. I trail my lips down Sam's neck and over the hard muscle of his chest, all while pumping his penis.

"…Quinn…" Sam moans my name and I smile in satisfaction as I move my tongue and teeth over his nipples, down his navel, to his abs, grazing them with my teeth. I love the way sounds of pleasure are escaping his lips as I continue to please him.

I move my hand up and down his shaft and Sam gives a few grunts here and there. "Oh…fuck!" Sam moans his hands squeezing and kneading my thighs.

I can feel Sam's hot member twitching in my hand and I know he's close to cumming so I let go of his penis. I switch places with him, so that he's on top and wrap my arms around my neck, "god Sam, I want you to make love to me," I say as he looks down at me. Sam smirks as his breathing pace returns to normal.

"You ready?" he asks positioning himself above my entrance. I nod, biting my lip in anticipation. He slowly lowers him into me and I gasp at his size, breaking down my walls.

"Are you alright?" Sam asks, letting me adjust to his size.

I nod, as the pain dulls over and is replaced by ecstasy. Sam starts thrusting deeper into me; he starts of gentle and slowly but I get really impatient fast and slam my hips against his, moaning as he thrusts harder into me, working up a rhythm. I can feel my climax building up inside of me as Sam continues to thrust into me. Not long, I hit my climax, screaming in ecstasy as I do; Sam comes at about the same time, cursing and groaning as he did, spilling his seed deep within me.

"God, I've missed you," Sam says as he slips out of me and rolls us over so that I'm on top.

After we just lay there; I bury my face into the crook of my neck and let my body settle down.

After a few minutes I hear Sam say something in my ear.

"Hmmm?" I ask looking up at his face.

"Are you alright?" he asks again, fingers skating over my back.

I nod, "that was amazing," I say and Sam laughs.

"Should I take that as a compliment?" he asks against my hair and I laugh.

"I guess you should, but I like to think that I wasn't so bad either," I say leveling my face with his and leaning our foreheads together.

"I guess you were alright," Sam says cockily and I slap his arm and he just laughs.

"I was joking," he says laughing, "you were perfect." He kisses my ear and starts nibbling at it.

I smile and rest my head against his chest and yawn. Sex can take a lot out of you. Where had I read that one hour of sex can burn about 200 calories? I guess I won't have to worry about eating all that ice cream today.

"Let's go to sleep," Sam says, leaning over and turning off the lamp on the nightstand and just like that we both drifted off to sleep, peacefully and full of bliss.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

I wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar setting. I look around and the memories of last night come flowing back; the beautiful naked girl lying across my chest is evidence enough. I look down at Quinn; she's sleeping peacefully, breathing evenly, a slight smile on her lips. She looks like an angel, so gorgeous and perfect. I smile, I don't even feel guilty about last night, which I should but I don't even seem to care.

I turn my head and look at the clock on the nightstand. It's 9 almost o'clock, thank god it's a Saturday, I really don't want to go to work today; I'd be happy lying here with Quinn all day.

I hear my stomach growl, I didn't have any dinner last night; I don't consider 2 bottles of light beer as dinner. I look at Quinn, I really want to get up and make some breakfast, but she's sleeping so peacefully that I don't want to wake her. I just realized that I sound so damn whipped to a woman who isn't even my wife.

I really could care less about Mallory right now; she's off somewhere in Italy falling over some famous designer or something. I don't consider this cheating; you're not cheating if you're with someone you love. Yeah, it's a lame rationalization but it's the best I got, and I'll take it.

"Mmm," I hear Quinn moan against my chest, at the bright sunlight peeking out of the curtains. I chuckle at her and Quinn props herself up on her arms, resting them across my chest to look at my face.

"Hi," she says looking me in the eyes, probably for any signs of any regrets, which she won't find.

"Hey," I say pecking her on the nose, my fingers skim down to her waist.

Quinn sighs and presses her face to my neck, kissing the skin her breath just hit. "Last night was…" say starts stopping to find the right word, "perfect."

I smile at her words and squeeze her tighter, "best night of my life," I say truthfully. Last night was the best night of my life, better than my wedding night, better then any night with Mallory, even better than that night with Quinn in that motel room.

Quinn leans up to look at my face again, "really?" she asks her face level with mine and our foreheads pressed against one another.

I nod, "better than any night I've ever lived," I say kissing her square on the lips.

Quinn pulls away after a short while and presses her forehead to mine, "even better than that first night together in the motel room?" she asks and I smile.

"That's a close second," I say kissing her again, Quinn giggles and I roll on top of her; running my hands down her beautiful, naked body. I'm getting harder by just that; I move my lips from Quinn's lips to her jaw, kissing down her neck.

"Sam…" Quinn giggles, as I caress her firm, delicious breasts.

"Hmm?" I ask kissing down her collarbone; I'm totally ready to get going right now.

"I need to take a shower," she says giggling and pulling my head up level with hers.

"Hmmm, you know I gotta take one too," I say touching my nose to hers, "care to save some water by going together?"

Quinn laughs and pushes me off of her, walking over to the bathroom, turning around as soon as she reaches the door, "I guess helping the environment wouldn't be so bad," she says going into the bathroom, and I laugh, getting off the bed and running after her. Yeah, life is good.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

After a long shower together, in which we wasted a whole lot more water than we would have if we hadn't showered together; we both find out selves in the kitchen.

Sam is frying some bacon on the stove while I watch him, from the dining table. I'm only wearing my fuzzy bathrobe that ends at mid thigh and Sam has only his boxers on.

"Do you always cook?" I ask as he flips the bacon with his spatula.

"Pretty much," he says smiling over at me, "I'm good, aren't I?" He walks over and slides the bacon onto my plate.

"I guess you're okay," I joke and he puts his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

"I resent that!" he says kissing the back of my neck, causing me to giggle like a teenager, Sam can do things to me that I can't even explain.

"You're the best I've ever met," I say taking a bite of the bacon as he sits down in his chair and takes a bite of his toast.

"Thanks babe," he says leaning over and pecking my cheek, causing me to grin wide. Being called 'babe' by him after all these years feels so wonderful.

"Mmhm," I say taking another bite of my bacon, "you're never gonna tell me what you put in here?" I didn't get a chance to see what he does today.

"Maybe someday," he says smiling at me.

"Someday," I repeat drinking my orange juice; I didn't know that that someday would ever come. His wife is not going to be gone forever; she'll be back soon. She's probably going to lure Sam away from me with the talk of his baby and all that shit. I know that I'm going to have to tell Sam…someday.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Sam asks and I look over at him, smiling. I was not going to ruin this perfect morning with thoughts about his wife.

"Nothing, just how much I love you," I say and Sam grins.

"I love you too," he says, leaning over and kissing me. I smile against his lips but pull away as he tries to deepen it.

Smiling teasingly, I say, "we have to finish breakfast," I say and Sam just shakes his head, walking over to me and pulling my lips to his.

"Breakfast can wait," he says against my lips, deepening the kiss.

I smile against his lips and wrap my arms around his neck; Sam pulls me out of the chair and lays me down on the empty part of the table, yanking open my bathrobe.

I sigh as his lips go down my neck to my breasts. Sam wraps his mouth around my nipple and moves his tongue in a circular motion around the tip. I moan and move my hands down, pulling down his boxers; we are totally going to do it on my kitchen table.

I wrap my hand around Sam's cock and he groans against my chest, biting down on the sensitive skin of my nipple. I stroke his member up and down, feeling it get harder and wetter in my hand. Sam sucks and bits down on my breasts, I'm sure I'll have a deep hickey there afterwards. Sam moves his mouth up to my collarbone and neck, I'm sure leaving deep red marks on his way up; he reaches up and gives me a hot openmouthed kiss, swirling his tongue around my mouth. He moves his hands down from my hips, in between my legs, causing me moan loudly against his mouth as he presses two fingers to my clit.

"God…Sam," I breath against his lips as he enters a finger into me. My breath quickens and I moan as he thrust his fingers deep inside me.

"Fuck… Quinn, I'm ready for you," he says removing his fingers as I quicken my pace on his cock, whining at the loss of contact.

"Mmmm," I moan, opening my legs wider for him. Sam puts his hands on either side of my thighs and looks at me.

"You ready?" he asks and I nod, wanting him in me so badly.

Sam positions himself above my entrance and just waits for a while, kissing me a few times; before slamming into me. I moan loudly against his mouth.

"Sam!" I scream as he thrusts deep inside of me.

"Fuck!" Sam yells, thrusting into me harder. I know I'm not going to last long because of all the attention he's given to my vagina.

"Omigod! Fuck! Sam!" I scream and dig my nails into his shoulder as I orgasm hard. Sam comes shortly after, gripping my thighs tightly and spilling deep inside of me.

He collapses on top of me, on the table, afterwards, though he doesn't hurt me. "God, I love you," he says kissing my neck.

"Mmmm, me too,' I say, coming down from me orgasm.

We lay there for a while, before Sam gets off of me and helps me up. "We should probably finish breakfast now," he says smirking as he hands me my bathrobe.

I laugh and pull it on as he pulls up his boxers, "I guess we should," I giggle, walking over to my chair and sitting down. Breakfast couldn't have been more fun.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

Things went as usual after that display of hotness of the table. We finished breakfast and washed the dishes like we usually would. Afterwards we retreated to the couch, watching the _Notebook_, since it had already been in her DVD player. I have to say, the movie may be the greatest chick flick of all time, but it wasn't so bad. Sure it was cheesy and romantic, but I kind of liked it. Yeah, I know that sounds so damn gay, but when you're in love as I am, many things you do may seem gay to other guys but their actually romantic and sweet.

If Ryan could hear me now, he's kick my ass for sounding like such a chick, but he love does things to you.

We don't get far into the movie; instead we end up making out on the couch. Yeah, we had just gotten off less than half an hour ago, but hey it had been seven years.

I'm just about to pull open Quinn's bathrobe, when I hear my phone ring from the coffee table.

I groan, unlatching myself from Quinn, I reach over and answer the phone.

"Hello," I say in a rude tone, not bothering to look at the number as usual. Quinn giggles at my tome of voice and I smirk at her.

"Sam, honey! I have the greatest news!" says the voice from the end; I freeze at the sound of Mallory's voice.

"Mallory," I say sitting up, I look over at Quinn who is watching me intently, her face grave.

"Sammy, I'm coming home tomorrow night!" she says and my eyes go wide.

"T-tomorrow?" I ask, flabbergasted, she was coming home tomorrow. What the hell am I going to do? Quinn's eyes are about as wide as mine, probably as shocked as me too.

"Yep, I'm about to board my plane in a few," she says excitedly, "I can't wait to see you tomorrow; I have something important to tell you."

"Uh…yeah," I say, not really paying attention to what she was saying.

"We're due to get to LAX at around 7 pm tomorrow; you'll be there to pick me up right?" Mallory asks as I stand up and start pacing around the room.

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure," I say, trying to think about what I'm going to say to Mallory.

"Great, I gotta go now, but I'll talk to you later," she says, "love you."

"Bye," I say before hanging up. I look over at Quinn who is looking down at her lap. I walk over and sit beside her; neither of us saying a word.

We just sit there for a while, just staring at the wall before Quinn turns to me and I see tears in her eyes.

"What are we going to do Sam?" she asks, tears falling from her captivating eyes. I reach over and pull her into my lap, soothing her as he buries her face into the crook of my neck.

I don't answer her, because I myself have no idea what the hell I'm going to do.

**This story is no where near finished so don't think that for one second. We are about to get more drama and not just with the baby, but with so many other things. **

**Tell me what you think! Love it? Hate it? Let me know.**

**R&R**


	11. Decision

**Ok, so this one is a little shorter then the rest, but it still is really important.**

Sam's POV

What am I going to do? Yeah, I'm still asking myself that. It's been a day and I still don't know what to do. Well I guess is should know since I'm currently lying on Quinn Fabray's couch with my head on her lap, but I just don't. I look over at the clock, its 5:30, and hour and a half before I have to pick up Mallory from the airport. I really have no idea what I'm going to say to her.

I can't just keep up this…this affair. Yeah, that's what it was, an affair. There's no other way to say it. Quinn hasn't said anything about it, I know she doesn't want to push me, but I can't help but wonder why she wouldn't. I shouldn't be such a dick here; I should make up my damn mind. Yes, I slept with another woman, who wasn't my wife, more than once. I doubt Mallory will even keep me after she finds out; but what if she doesn't find out? I look up at Quinn, who is looking at the television screen, not really paying attention to the Lifetime movie that's currently playing; it's just something to look at.

"Quinn…" I say making her move her eyes to look down at me. She looks at me and gives a small, fake smile. The typical Quinn Fabray smile, it's fake; it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Yeah?" she says running a hand through my hair, I reach over and take a hold of her hand and bring it up to my lips, kissing it softly.

"Talk to me Quinn, tell me what you're thinking," I say looking up into her eyes, holding her gaze so she can't look away.

"What do you want me to say Sam?" she sighs, looking away from me.

"I want you to tell me what to do," I say truthfully, sitting up and taking her hands, squeezing them gently.

"That's not my decision to make," she says looking down at our hands.

"Your decision will affect mine," I say taking her face in my hands so she couldn't escape my eyes.

"Isn't my decision obvious?" she says giving in to my eyes.

"No, it's not," I say truthfully, "my entire decision depends on yours." She looks at me and I see the hurt on her face, the emotion behind her earlier façade.

"I want you to pick me Sam," she says holding me hands that are on her face, "I want to be with you."

My heart skips a beat at her words, yes that can happen to guys too. "I want to be with you too, Quinn," I say releasing her face and pulling her to me in a hug.

"I love you Sam," she says burying her face into the crook of my neck, I hold her tighter. How was I ever going to leave her? I couldn't do it. And Mallory, could I just leave her? Ask for a divorce? What would my reason be? Irreconcilable differences? We were just fine before she left for Milan, could I really file divorce like this? She'd been gone less than a month and I've already cheated. Yep, I've cheated. Maybe a kiss wouldn't be considered cheating when you were married, but this was definitely cheating. There was no way around it.

"I love you too," I breathe against Quinn's hair, I wasn't going to leave her. I couldn't do it; I need her like I need air to breathe. I could care less about sounding cheesy right now.

I'm going to have to tell Mallory about Quinn; I'm going to ask for a divorce, I could find a way to do it, but is that what I wanted? I love Mallory… I love Quinn too. I just can't imagine Mallory not a part of my life; I swore I wouldn't be the one to hurt her. She had done nothing wrong, she was a good wife; any man would've died to have someone like her, but she chose me.

Damn, I feel like the world's biggest douchbag. Here I have two beautiful women, one being my wife, the other my lover; and I couldn't decide which one to chose. I don't deserve either of them, but yet here I am trying to make the biggest decision of my life.

I love Quinn, but will I still want to be with her when I see Mallory? Are these emotions just me missing Mallory or is this something more. I'm trying to follow my heart here, but my heart isn't giving me any answers here. My head's telling me to stop being such a pussy and just make up my damn mind. Could my life get any more conflicting? I highly doubt that I could.

I figure that in order to make my decision I need to see Mallory. I don't say anything to Quinn, maybe if I tell her that I'm having trouble making my decision she'll think I'm an ass and not even want me. That would make things easier, then again I'll be wondering 'what if' my entire life; that could go either way really.

I just sit there holding Quinn for a while, neither of us saying a word; the only sound is that of the TV in the background. I look over at the clock and see that it's already 6:30; it would take me at least 20 minutes to get to the airport from Quinn's apartment. I don't want to leave her though; I would be content in staying here forever, only if life could be the simple.

"Quinn?" I say, making sure she wasn't asleep.

"Hmmm?" she says against my neck, her hot breath washing over my skin.

"I should go, Quinn," I say, Quinn doesn't let me go, she just holds on to me for a moment before her arms loosen around my neck and she lets me go. She sits back and looks at me, her face emotionless. The look in her eyes breaks my heart and I know that it'll always be her that a chose.

"Quinn I chose you," I say, her face doesn't change, she give a sad smile and shakes her head. I look at her confused.

"Don't say that yet Sam, go see her and then if you still chose me come back, I've waited seven years for you, I can wait a little longer," she says and I lean over and kiss her, my hand behind her neck, holding her face against mine. I never ever want to leave her, I doubt seeing Mallory will change that. I pull away from Quinn and look at her.

"Nothing will change the way I feel about you, Quinn," I say before giving her one last peck on the lips and getting up.

"I'll be back," I say walking out the door and down to my car, ready to meet my fate.

The drive to the airport is silent, as silent as it can be. I can hear my breathing that it's so quite, the tiring running along the asphalt. I get to the airport in a short amount of time; it's about 6:50. I walk inside the airport and towards the terminal gate where Mallory's plane is supposed to land.

I walk into the terminal and wait over by where the friends and families of the passengers. I wait over by the corner and watch as the passengers walk out of the gate, running over to their family and friends, hugging and kissing. I suddenly feel guilty watching them. I see Mallory walk out bags in hand, her hair up in a high ponytail, she's wearing no makeup, with sweatpants and a sweatshirt; she still looks beautiful.

I see her look around for me; her eyes searching for me in the large group of visitors. I wave to her and as soon as she sees me her face blooms into a beautiful smile. My heart aches as she runs over to me, there's no doubt in my mind that I love her too. She drops her bags a few feet from me and jumps on me, wrapping her arms around her neck.

I laugh at her and smile, as much as I don't want to admit it, I really did miss her. I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss the top of her head. This is going to be harder than I thought.

"I missed you so much!" Mallory says against my shoulder, pulling back to look at me.

"I missed you too," I say kissing her forehead. Mallory smiles and takes a deep breath.

"Sam I came back early because while in Milan I was feeling a little sick," she says and I nod telling her to continue, "so I went to a doctor and …I'm pregnant Sam."

The world seems to stop right then and there. She's pregnant. My wife is pregnant; we're going to have a baby. A baby; my baby. Whatever decision I needed to make was made for me; my feeling or emotions didn't matter here. All that matters is that baby.

"Sam," Mallory says, I haven't moved in a while; she's probably worried. It doesn't matter anymore who I want to be with or who I love more; I'm not going to abandon my child.

I do what comes naturally. I gather Mallory up in my arms and swing her around; laughing as she giggles. I finally set her down and kiss her; I'm going to be a daddy. I can see it already; if it's a boy I'll teach him football and get him into comic books, make him a dork just like me, if it's a girl I'll have to kill the many boys who are going to try to ask her out, I have no doubt in my mind that they'll be perfect.

"We're going to have a baby," I whisper, pressing my forehead to Mallory's.

"I know," she squeals, hugging me and giggling.

I hug her back, holding her for a few minutes, before pulling away. "Come on," I say putting an arm around her shoulders and picking up her bags, "let's go home; my wife and unborn child need their rest."

Mallory laughs and we both walk out of the airport. I can't help but think of Quinn; she's probably waiting for me. I know I would've gone to her if it weren't for the baby, but I've already cheated, but I'm definitely not going to be that guy who abandons his child and pregnant wife.

Mallory chats away about Milan during the ride home; but all I can think about is Quinn Fabray.

Then something hits me like a meteor falling from the sky. I didn't use a condom. With Quinn, those t I didn't use I condom. We had sex like five times in those two days and I never used a condom. Holy shit! What if Quinn is pregnant; I chose not to think about that right now. She might not even have been ovulating during this time, but the last time Quinn had unprotected sex was in high school and she had Beth nine months after. Raking a hand through my messy locks I curse at myself for being so irresponsible.

My life has already been as complicated as it could be in the last few days, Quinn being pregnant would make me the biggest asshole in the history of assholes. Knocking two women up at the same time; well Mallory should be a few weeks along by now, but Quinn…

I shake that though away. That would just be too much to comprehend right now. I have to tell Quinn about this, I don't want her to hate me, but she probably will either way. I just can't leave my baby, no matter how much I love her. I'm not that kind of guy. I decide to ask her to come by my office tomorrow so I can explain everything to her; I need to tell her face to face.

I just nod and listen to Mallory the rest of the ride home. When we get home, I walk over and help her out of the Escalade, picking up her bags. We walk inside the house and she goes upstairs, saying she has to go to the bathroom.

I laugh, pregnancy can be quite humorous. I make sure that Mallory is upstairs before pulling out my phone and texting Quinn.

_To: Quinn Fabray_

_Hey Q, we need to talk. Come by my office tomorrow around noon._

_- Sam_

I put my phone away and carry Mallory's bags upstairs, cursing at myself for being a dick the whole way.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

I look at the clock. I've already eaten dinner, tired of waiting for Sam. It's almost 8:30, if Sam was going to come back; he'd be here by now. All of a sudden my phone buzzes, I look down at the screen; it's a text from Sam. I read over the text; I know what he's going to tell me, he's going to apologize and say he can't do this because he's having a baby with that two-timing lying bitch. That's the only reason she came back early, they didn't have a sudden change of plans or anything because Brittany and Santana are still over their, they just sent me a picture.

_To: Sam Evans_

_Ok, I'll be there. I know she's pregnant Sam._

_- Quinn_

I send the text. I don't know why I told him that I know she's pregnant. That's probably the reason he needs to talk to me, to explain to me how he can't leave his child. But it's not _his_ child, but he doesn't know that. I don't care anymore. I don't care if I'm being Rachel Berry or if I'm not being empathetic. I'm going to tell him, I'm sick and tired of losing the people I love. I'm not going to lose Sam, I'm not. He deserves to know the truth, if I don't tell him he'll probably go his entire life thinking that that is his child when really its not.

I don't care if he gets mad at me for not telling him sooner; and if he doesn't believe at least I'll put some doubt into his mind. I'm going to fight for him; even if he doesn't fight for me and if I lose, if he still wants to be with her through all that so be it. I tried. I'm Quinn Fabray and I'm no longer going to let other people kick me around. I'm going to stand up for myself and fight for what I believe; I'm going to do what I should've done a long time ago.

All of a sudden my thoughts are interrupted by a sudden pang of nausea in my stomach. I jump up and run to the bathroom, depositing my dinner into the toilet.

Throwing up is not a pretty sight, its gross, but I doubt any one thinks it's beautiful. But this throwing up is violent, its not like that of food poisoning or when I threw up because I could still taste that man in the alley's tongue. This was different, but I can't quite recall what it really is.

Wiping off my mouth after vomiting everything in my stomach, I lean against the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. I look a mess but who cares, its not like anyone's going to see me. I don't have to try and look good for Sam; he's not going to show up tonight.

I wash my face and open up my medicine cabinet for some Advil, when I see something in there that shakes me to the core: a pregnancy test.

I stare at the test for a while. I had bought it a long time ago, thinking that it would be good to have one just in case; never did I think that I'd actually use one. My mind goes back to the many times we made love, not one did I feel a latex rubber between us. Not once had I not felt him releasing inside of me. I should've been more careful, but in the heat of the moment you don't really think about that.

What if I was? What if I had a little baby growing inside of me? If I did, there was no doubt that it was Sam's; I haven't had sex with a guy before Sam since college. I feel my hands shaking as I pick up the pregnancy test. Words cannot describe how I'm feeling right now; as much as it has always been my dream to be carrying Sam's baby , this is not the way I wanted it to happen. In my head we'd already been married and living a perfect life full of love and passion; but we weren't even together, he thought he was fathering another woman's baby right now.

But if I was pregnant, I wouldn't be sad. Sure I'd be terrified, but with or without Sam, this baby is going to come into this world and I will be its mom. After Beth there is no way that I could bear handing over another one and why should I? I may not be as rich as Sam, but I could definitely take care of it.

But if I were with Sam, I can totally see him playing football with our son in the backward, or trying to break the arm of any boy who tried to ask our daughter out on a date. I smile at the thought; we could be a happy little family.

The thought of going through this alone is scary; it would be really hard not having him to support me. I take several deep breaths, I'm probably over analyzing it, and sure it may have been during those only three moths in the month when the chances of pregnancy are high; but the test still could still be negative. I swallow hard and open the box, pulling out the thick white stick.

Setting the pregnancy test down on the counter after I used it, I walked over to my bed and sit on the edge; burying my face in my hands. Could these few weeks get any more conflicting?

After five minutes I walk into the bathroom, breathing deeply as I pick up the pregnancy test. This day had just gotten more conflicting, because on the test is a big red plus sight. It's positive. I'm pregnant…

**I know that I ended the last chapter of Love Has No Exception like this too, but nobody expected ths right? Well some people had a hunch. **

**So what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know.**

**R&R**


	12. The Cat's Out Of The Bag

**Here it is. The long awaited chapter. I know it took me a while to update this one, but I've been trying to keep a steady pace with both my fics. **

**Anyways, here it goes! Enjoy!**

Sam's POV

To say that I was freaking out had to be an understatement. How in the hell did Quinn Fabray know that Mallory was pregnant. That was what she was referring to right? Of course I, being paranoid as ever, was thinking about how I had been an idiot and not worn protection while making love to Quinn. What the hell was wrong with me?

I looked down at my watch, it was past noon. Quinn had texted me a few minutes ago about how she was running late and would be there as soon as possible. I just sat at my desk, not bothering with the uneaten sub that sat on the desk. I had no appetite today, rather I felt like I was going to throw up from all this tension.

What was I supposed to say to her? Tell her that my wife's pregnant and even though I love her more than she would ever know, I can't be with her because my wife is bearing my child? Yeah, that wasn't a douchbag move at all.

I rolled my eyes at myself. Why was I so stupid? Why had I got myself in this situation? I really don't know how Mallory got pregnant, we used protection every time; there was no way in hell that I was ready to be a father and I'm sure 9 moths wouldn't change that. I always wore a condom, I racked my head trying to think about 1 time that I released inside of her without a condom, but I couldn't find any. Maybe there was a bad condom or something.

How could I be so cautious with Mallory and let all my worries slip away with Quinn? I had condoms in my wallet; every responsible guy does; but why had I been an idiot and not used them? I just couldn't stand the fact of anything separating us after that long of an absence; that's why. I just realized that that was the lamest excuse I could think of, that didn't mean that I couldn't wear a condom after that first time. There were many other times. I sucked in my breath, many other opportunities for her to get pregnant.

My heart felt heavy and my head was aching; this is what I get for cheating on my wife. Bull! This is what I get for getting married in the first place.

My thoughts are broken apart when I hear a knock at my door. I look up and walk over to the door, sighing as I open it; I had told my employees to leave me alone today, this had better be good. But it wasn't any workers, it was Quinn.

My heartbeat started racing rapidly. "Quinn…" I said, my eyes wide seeing her beautiful face. This was going to be so damn hard. Quinn gave me a small fake smile; I hated those smiles, they're better off not given, they just made me want to kick myself.

"Hi, Sam…" Quinn said stepping into my office and sitting down in a chair across the table from me. I sat in my chair after I shut the door and looked at Quinn; I had no idea what to say, so I started off with something simple.

"So…what took you so long," I asked, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, is it just me or did she get a whole lot harder to look in the eye?

"Oh…I had a doctor's appointment," Quinn said looking a little nervous, I can't imagine why she'd be nervous; aren't I the one who is about to make the biggest decision of my life?

"Oh, that's cool," I say folding my hands on the table and looking at anything but her, looking at her just makes it so damn hard to say what I have to say.

"I hope Mallory had a safe flight," Quinn said, giving me that fake smile again. Doesn't she know that she can't fool me with that smile? I know her way to well. That smile just insults me.

"Yeah she did," I say taking a deep breath, holding this off any longer will not do me any good, "listen Quinn, what did you mean when you texted that you knew she was pregnant?"

Quinn sighs, "she is isn't she?" she asks looking at me. How can she bear to do so, when I can't even look at anything involved with her?

"Who?" I ask and Quinn rolls her eyes, yeah it was probably a dumb question but I had to know who she was talking about.

"Mallory!" Quinn says aggravated, folding her arms across her chest.

I gave an uneasy laugh, why the hell did she have to make it this hard with that beautiful face of hers. Then again, she could smudge her face with mud and I'd still think she's the most beautiful person on the planet.

Quinn raises her eye brows at me and I sigh, it was now or never, "Yeah, she is," I say and Quinn doesn't even look one bit surprised, "that's why I need to talk to you."

"I know what you're going to say Sam," Quinn says giving me a look that makes me want to just kill myself now. What had I done to deserve a life like this? Maybe if it wasn't for the baby, they'd both leave me and figure out that I'm a jackass; although I'm pretty sure Quinn knows that.

"No you don't," I say, she may think that just because the bay I'm leaving her, but she can't have any idea how hard it is for me, "you have no idea how much I hate myself for doing this to you, I'll never be able to forgive myself."

"Just spit it out Sam," Quinn said through her teeth, refusing to look at me.

"I'm going to be a father Quinn," I say hoping that she'll feel one bit of sympathy of me, but I doubt she will, I wouldn't have felt any for me if I were in her shoes, "I can't throw that baby away, I will not abandon it."

Quinn just nods, no tears nothing, so I continue, "that's why I can't do this anymore Quinn," I say and Quinn just nods again, like it was all fine and dandy. Why was she not breaking inside like I was?

"You should know something Sam," she says and a look at her, what does she possibly know?

"Yeah?" I say, still shocked that she's being so calm; I'm not that damn fucking calm!

"It's not yours," she says and I literally have no idea what she's talking about.

"Huh?" I ask and Quinn rolls her eyes at me, like what she's trying to say is the most obvious thing in the world.

"The baby!" she says and my eyes grow about 10 times wider.

"Excuse me?" I ask, she can't possibly be saying what I think she's saying?

"Mallory's pregnant but not with your baby," Quinn say and I feel like the world stops for a minute.

I'm really speechless, what are you supposed to say to that? is ay the first thing that comes to my mind, "get out," I say averting my eyes from hers. How dare she say such a thing? This is not the Quinn that I fell in love with, how can she lie about something like this?

"I heard and saw them talking about it with both my eyes and ears," Quinn says narrowing her eyes at me, I really can't deal with this right now; my brain is throbbing and my heart is racing, I feel nauseous.

"Just…please leave," I say burying my face in my hands, not wanting to see anything. Quinn stands there for a while and I look up at her to see Quinn's head turned slightly to the side, not making eye contact with me. And that's when I see the tears; large ones, falling from her beautiful eyes to her pale cheeks.

"Did you ever really love me?" she spat at me standing up. I'm enraged by her words. Does she honestly think that I didn't love her? Does she think that I'd be doing this if I didn't love her?

"You have no idea how much I love you, how hard it was for me to say that," I say angrily, standing up as well, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Don't lie to me! If you did, you'd believe me when I tell you something like this!" Quinn yells, I couldn't believe what she was saying right now. After everything we've been saying that past few days, is this really what she thought?

"How do you expect me to believe you?" I ask furious, "this is not a game Quinn!"

"You think I don't know that?" Quinn yells, "I wouldn't lie about something like this! And if you loved me you would know that!"

"This is bull shit Quinn!" I say walking around the desk so that I'm a foot away from her. "you'd never believe me if I told you something like this!"

"Yes I would! And you know why? Because I love you Sam!" Quinn says and I immediately feel bad for yelling at her, "but obviously you never did."

"Don't give me that Quinn," I say, does she not know how I feel for her? "you know that I love you!"

"Lying doesn't make it any easier Sam, if you'd just come out and say your true feelings, it wouldn't have been so hard for me" she says her eyes boring into mine, "I knew that you never loved me, after you were indecisive about who you were going to be with, I knew that there was no chance in hell that I was going to be the one you chose," Quinn says, tears gushing from her eyes, making me feel like the biggest jerk in the world, "you were just missing your wife and I happened to be needy and desperate and in love that you took advantage of my weakness and used it as your own personal entertainment!"

"Is that what you think?" I argue, hating the way I was speaking to her, but it had to be done this way, "I would've never done this if I didn't love you. I can't believe you said that to me."

"Well is what I said wrong!" Quinn yells, "you never did love me, you just say that I was pretty and popular and needy so you took your chance. You just threw me away like garbage and jumped on the train known as Santana without even trying to talk to me!"

"I think you're forgetting that you're the one that cheated on me!" I say, yeah maybe it was a low blow but it's the best I got, "I would've never broken up with you if you hadn't, how can you even question the love I had and have for you!"

"Is it so wrong of me to do so?" Quinn asks and I feel anger boil inside of me, how dare she say this to me? How dare she question my love for her?

"I can't believe you right now," I say and Quinn just shakes her head.

"This was a mistake, all of it," she says wiping her tears, "singing Lucky with you was a mistake, putting those gift certificates away and telling you to pay for the first date was a mistake, falling in love with you and letting you in was a mistake. I knew that you'd break my heart in some shape of form."

Her words feel like a thousand knives hitting my chest, "Quinn, you don't mean that…" I say, she can't mean that. It was definitely not a mistake.

Quinn nods, "yes I do," she says and I just shake my head.

"How could you say that about Mallory?" I ask and Quinn just shakes your head.

"Ask me that again, when your precious wife gives birth to that child and it comes out looking like that intern Nate!" Quinn says, "I just tried to tell you the truth Sam. Goodbye. Have a good life." and with that she's gone, walking out the door, not bothering to look back.

I feel like a zombie. My mind is racing; could it be true? What Quinn said? Was Mallory really having an affair with Nate? I sit back down in my chair and bury my face in my hands, after cancelling all my appointment for the day. Words cannot describe how I feel right now.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

Running in your car and locking the doors all while crying your eyes out is not a pleasing way to start; but that is exactly what is happening. I don't care who sees me, although no one does because it's dark in the underground parking lot and there aren't people around. I just let my head fall against the steering wheel and cry.

I didn't mean what I said. Not one word of it. But sometimes I thought that way, not about Sam not loving m or all that other stuff a said, not even remembering, but of me having no chance to end up with him; I think every girl does once in a while. I always thought that he had been too good to be true and maybe that's why I said what I said. I know that makes absolutely no sense but none of my thoughts make sense right now.

I just sit there and cry. Yeah, I was indeed pregnant. I went to the doctor's office that morning to get a test done and it was confirmed, I was having a baby. I realize then that I forgot to tell Sam about it. I wasn't even thinking about it.

I feel like I don't want to tell Sam about the baby. What would he possibly do? He wasn't going to believe me about Mallory; there was nothing I could do to change his mind. I need his help raising this baby; I could provide for it on my own. I may not be as rich as Sam, but I definitely wasn't poor. Sure, I wanted his help, I wanting him to be the father, to take care of me and the baby; but I didn't need it.

How can I even feel bad about the baby right now? Isn't this all I wanted since seeing Beth again senior year? I wanted a baby and now I was getting one. I have no doubt in my mind that it'll come out perfect; any child of Sam's had to be.

I really have no idea why I'm crying. Probably because Sam doesn't love me enough to believe Mallory over me, and why should he? She's his wife. I was just a fling he had in high school that was rekindled for a few days, but is now definitely over. I don't feel one bit bad about telling Sam the truth. He deserved to know the truth, and as much as I don't want to admit it, Finn deserved to know the truth sophomore year too. I can't hate Rachel for that, she was just doing the right thing; even if her intentions weren't pure, but then again were mine?

I shouldn't care. I should be happy that I'm pregnant. Aren't babies a good thing? They're supposed to be miracles sent from good, right? Is so, then why am I in my car crying my eyes out. I feel like the tears just won't stop, no matter how much I try they keep coming. Why is it being like this?

Because the only man I've ever loved and probably ever will love, just told me that he chose his wife over me; because it proved that he didn't love me enough to chose me over his two timing wife. It's hard to describe what I'm feeling right now. The word to describe my feeling hasn't been invented yet. I'll try to explain as best as I can: I feel like there is no such like as love. Like is love is non-existence and thinking that you're loved will only come back to haunt you and destroy your spirit.

Well, I'm not going to let that happen to me. He was just a man. They're useless and not necessary to live your life with; so why do I need him. I don't need him or any guy for that matter. I'm Quinn Fabray and frankly she doesn't need anyone.

Composing myself, I wipe away my tears with the palms of my hands and take a deep breath. I'm going to have a baby, and maybe that's why my emotions are heightened. I take several deep breaths and start my engine; putting my car in rear and driving out of the parking lot and going to work. Might as well go back to normal.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

Let's just say I am freaking out. That sounds like accurate way to say my emotions right now. I was driving to Mallory's office right now. I needed to see her; I needed to talk to her. What Quinn said couldn't be true? Could it? I was so responsible with Mallory, I knew that we both weren't ready for a baby; so how could this happen?

I try to keep calm while I drive. I don't want to get in an accident or anything, that would just make my day even worse than it already was; and that's something that I thought was impossible. I pull up to the tall, oddly shaped building; I never knew why they made it like that, like it was 3 buildings squished into one. I drive into the parking garage; the entire place was build like in the 19th century. I park my car and walk into the building, getting a visitor's pass from the front office; I walk into the elevator up to Mallory's office.

She's sitting at her desk reading some papers; looking pretty tired actually. Her eyes were puffy; had she been crying? I don't to make her even more stressed then she already is but I need answers.

I gently knock on the see-through glass office door and Mallory looks up; her face brightening up slightly as she saw me. I give a small smile and walk into her office.

"Hey Mal," I say walking over and sitting in a chair across from her.

"Hi, Sam, what're you doing here?" she asks putting her papers down and folding her hands on the table, looking at me.

"Uh…well, I kind of need to ask you something," I say awkwardly; how the hell are you supposed to ask something like this to your wife. I couldn't do it; I needed more information and time… yes time would be good. Why the hell did I just show up here? We should talk about this when we're at home.

"Yes?" Mallory asked looking at me curiously; I shoved my hands in my pockets and racked my brain to find something to ask her.

"Um…I was just wondering if the baby was okay, I mean flying isn't good while you're pregnant," I say, there we go, a good question; I hope she didn't expect anything.

Mallory smiles, "the baby and I are fine Sam," she says smiling, "you're so sweet."

I laugh nervously and smile, "good," I say scratching the back of my neck.

"Is that all you wanted to ask me?" Mallory asks and I nod, "you came all the way over here to ask me that?" I look down, yeah that was a lame this to ask her; damn women were so hard to fool.

"Um… yeah, I guess I did," I say and Mallory raises her eyebrows at me, which can be god damn intimidating, "I've been reading baby books, you know and they said that flying while pregnant can be really bad." It wasn't completely a lie; I was reading baby books last night while Mallory slept like a baby, I needed something to get my mind off of Quinn.

Mallory shakes her head, "Sam, there's no need to read those baby books," she says looking serious, like she really didn't want me reading those books, it was somewhat suspicious.

"I just want to be a good dad," I say and Mallory continues to have that grave look, why doesn't she want me reading those books? Is there something in those books that she doesn't want me to know? Something that could make me suspicious about the father of the child? I couldn't help but wonder.

"Sam, don't read those books," Mallory said sternly, and I looked at her through narrow eyes. She was ordering me to not read baby books? Something was strange and I didn't like it.

"Why not?" I ask, not rudely but rather calmly; she can't know that I know something.

"Because they're just a waste of time!" Mallory says huffing; obviously I've hit a sore spot. There is definitely something going on.

I reach over the desk and put my hand over her tightly clasped ones; I was going to need to be extra sweet to get this out of her. "Baby, what's wrong?" I ask as sweetly as I possibly can; if there is anything I know about women it's that they can be easily loosened by being sweet; there's like some scientific equation behind it.

Mallory looks as our hands for a while, not answering my question. After a while she looks up at me, her face emotionless and blank, "nothing, Sam, I just don't want to talk about this right now okay?" she says and just after she finishes her sentence, her desk phone rings.

Mallory looks at her phone and answers giving me a look to go away before she says hello. I stand up from the chair and walk out of the office. I needed to get to the bottom of this and there was only one person that I could think of calling that would help me get down and dirty: Ryan.

I dig out my phone from my pocket and look up Ryan's contact, pressing the call button and holding the phone to my ear.

Ryan answers after a couple of rings. "Sammy boy!" he answers sounding drunk; who am I kidding Ryan always sounds drunk even though its 2 pm.

"Ryan, I need your help," I say and Ryan laughs.

"Has it really come to this Sam, that now you're calling _me _for help?" Ryan says and I laugh; yeah, I guess it had come to that, this just proves how messed up my life really is.

"Yeah, listen Ryan I need you to look up paternity tests in the Los Angeles under the name Mallory Evans, Mallory Jacobs would work too," I say looking at Mallory through the glass door, she's laughing on the phone, not even paying attention to me.

"Paternity tests?" Ryan asks, "Sam what the fuck is going on?" I start walking towards the elevator, stepping in and closing it before anyone else can get in.

"I'll explain later, just look it up, and let me know what you find," I tell him, going down on the elevator, towards the parking lot.

Ryan sighs, "alright, but you better explain to me what the hell is going on Sam," he says as I step out of the elevator and walk to my car.

"Okay, listens Ryan I gotta go," I say stepping into my car, "call me when you have the information." Ryan is a former conman; yeah I know, being friends with a conman can be dangerous, but Ryan has always been there for me and I'm sure he won't let me down now. He was always there for me in college and has been my best friend ever since; although we're polar opposites. Ryan's a computer genius and can hack into any computer he wishes to; I would know he's done it to me several times.

"Okay man, just be careful okay?" Ryan says and I chuckle nervously.

"I will," I say before hanging up and speeding home. I have about 4 hours to search the place top to bottom; I need answers.

Searching a big house for something you don't even know can be worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. I started in our bedroom, then in Mallory's home office, my home office, all the guest rooms, the entire basement, the living room, even the kitchen; I had went top to bottom on the house and I still couldn't find anything leading to my suspicion.

I was having a head ache and tired; I collapsed on the bed. The ability to not find anything gave me the slightest bit of hope; maybe Quinn was wrong, maybe she was saying it to be saying it, although I can't imagine why she would say something like that.

I had just about convinced myself that Quinn was lying when all of a sudden my phone rang from the bedside table. Sitting up, I grabbed my phone; it was Ryan.

"Ryan, did you find anything?" I asked, mostly hoping that he would say that he couldn't find anything, if Ryan couldn't find anything, I bet the CIA couldn't either.

"Sam… you should come here man, there's something that I want you to see," Ryan said uneasily. I immediately shot out of the bed and was already running downstairs and out of the door towards my car.

"Did you find anything?" I asked, getting into my car and Ryan sighed.

"Yes, but I have no idea what it is Sam," Ryan said and my heart cringed, "I need to come to my place to see what it is."

"I'll be there in a bit," I say before hanging up and starting the engine, driving to Ryan's downtown LA bachelor pad.

Traffic was horrendous. LA traffic always is. I honk my car horn for what seems like the millionth time, while standing on the Santa Monica Freeway. I had been in this jam for the past half and hour and it didn't look like I was going to be out of it anytime soon. I look at my watch, it's already 4 o'clock. I hit my palm against the steering wheel; Mallory would be home in 2 hours and I still hadn't made it out of the freeway.

After another half an hour later, I was finally out of traffic and pulling into Ryan's building. Stepping out of the car, I run up the stairs, not bothering with the elevator, to Ryan's pad. I knock on the door, out of breath and a worried looking Ryan answers it.

"Whoa, man, you okay?" Ryan asks as I step inside; I'm tired, out of breath and sweaty, but I could care less.

"What did you find?" I ask and Ryan shakes his head.

"Oh no," he says waving his finger at me, "you gotta tell me what the hell is going on before I show you what I found for hacking into numerous computers.

I sigh; there was no getting out of telling him. Might as well do it now and not argue because Ryan was the most stubborn human being you'd ever find. I sit down on the black leather couch and Ryan sits on the loveseat across from me. I lean forwards and rest my elbows on my knees.

"Okay, so Mallory's pregnant," I start and Ryan's eyes get huge, "but I have this suspicion that I'm not the father." Ryan doesn't say anything for a while, but after some time he sighs and stands up.

"Come on," he says, leading me into his home office; his 'evil lair' as he calls it. It's not like any other office, it has about 15 computers and tablets set up with wires everywhere and all that other techy hacking stuff; I was never one for electronics.

Ryan sits on his computer chair, his 'throne' as he calls it, and types a few things on a computer before looking at me. I'm standing behind him, trying to decipher the codes on his monitor before a scanned piece of paper shows up on the screen.

"What is that?" I ask trying to read the small writing on the page.

"It's a paternity test result taken on April 25th at 10:45 am at Doctor Mark Petersen's office by one Mallory Jacobs-Evans." Ryan says and I suck in my breath as he zooms in on the document. I read over the top quickly before going to the bottom where the result is. And there it is in clear black ink.

Nathanial Martin

I don't know what to do or think at the moment. I just stand frozen in my place. She was having an affair with Nate? The intern? Quinn was right? My wife was having an affair with another man, my knees felt weak. I clutch onto the back of Ryan's 'throne' tightly with one hand, holding myself up while my other hand is balled up into a fist at my side.

"Sam?" Ryan asks, looking into my blank face. My eyes are blank and so is my face. I feel android, dead, cold.

"Anything else?" I croak out of my extremely dry throat.

Ryan looks at me fearfully, "I don't think you want to see this Sam," he says and I glare at him.

"Just show it to me," I snarl, not caring about my tone of voice or anything in that matter.

Ryan sighs and pulls up a screen of surveillance footage of a closet. "In February, the Times put up secret cameras in places that there weren't cameras before without telling their employees; I found this taken on April 5th at 12:49 pm," he says. I avert my eyes from Ryan to the monitor as he plays the footage, fast forwarding it a little before stopping it just as I see Mallory appear on the tape.

She's looking around, probably to see if anyone was there, and then all of a sudden Nate appears and pushes her up against the wall, kissing her ferociously; and Mallory was kissing him back, her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist.

I seriously want to vomit right then and there. I feel like I'm about to collapse.

Nate rips off Mallory's blouse just as she does his shirt. I feel the my blood boiling in my veins, my heart breaking piece by piece at the image of my wife making love to another man. Ryan obviously senses that I've seen enough and turns off the monitor, turning around and looking at me.

"Sam, man, I'm so sorry," he says and I don't even comprehend what he said. I just turn around and storm out of the door, walking down the stairs and towards the car as fast as my two feet can take me.

I race my car to the LA Times office building. Parking in the nearest parking spot I find, which is thankfully not a handicap space because if it was, I'd be in deep trouble and I doubt that I'd make a move to move the car. I speed walk into the building, not bothering getting a visitor's pass and run up the stairs to the 8th floor. Not stopping until I get there. I storm into the office, knowing exactly where both she and he would be: in her office.

I see the blinds down on Mallory's office door and I wrench the door open. And there they are, true to my suspicion. I do what my first instinct would do; I grab a hold of the asshole and punch him in the face, knocking him to the ground.

"Sam!" Mallory screams looking at me through scared, clouded eyes, but I don't care. My eyes are bloodshot and my anger is boiling.

"You slept with here huh?" I say to Nate as I kick him in the stomach, "you son of a bitch; I'm going to kill you." At this point Nate's face was bloody and he was clutching his throbbing nose.

A crowd had formed around Mallory's office, but I didn't care. I pick Nate up and threw him at the wall, knocking down Mallory's pictures of me and her and her many diplomas.

"Congratulations. You're going to be a father!" I say kneeing him in the groin, and by the sound of his cry, I knew I had gotten his dick square.

"Sam!" Mallory yells, "please stop." I didn't. I punched Nate a few more times in the gut, before throwing him on the ground and turning towards my wife.

"Did you honestly think that I wouldn't find out?" I ask seeing tears fall from her eyes, I didn't feel one bit of sympathy for her.

"Sam, please let me explain…" she tries to say, but I cut her off.

"What the hell do you have to explain," I yell at her; this is the first time I've ever raised my voice at her, "you went and had an affair with him," I gesture towards Nate who is withering in pain on the floor, "and then got yourself knocked up and had the nerve to tell me that it was mine!"

"Sam…" Mallory says, full on crying now, "I- I'm so…sorry."

I scoff, "yeah that makes it all better," I say shaking my head. I can't take this anymore. I can't live like this. I just can't.

"I'm done," I say sternly, "with you. I'm done." I felt like there was suddenly a heavy burden lifted from my shoulders, but that was soon replaced by a pang of pain.

"No, no," Mallory says standing up from her chair and rushing over towards me, taking my bloody hands in hers, "no, please Sam; can we please talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about," I say snatching my hands away, "I'm filing for divorce Mallory."

"No, Sam, please," Mallory pleads, "I love you."

"No you don't" I laugh, un-humorously, "if you did you would've never did what you did."

"Sam…" she says, but I don't let her finish her sentence, I turn around and storm out of the office, shoving past the crowd of onlookers as I do.

Where I was going, I had no idea.

**I don't know if you could consider that a cliffhanger. But if it is, so be it. I know a lot of you guys thought that Quinn was going to tell Sam that she was pregnant with his baby and Mallory wasn't, and Sam was just going to believe her that easily and marry her and they would raise their baby together. Well, that's not going to happen. Too easy right? :) There is more drama yet to come so stay tuned. **

**Who else thought that Sam and Quinn were all over each other in episode 8? I knew I though they were. Take that Samcedes! Sam and Mercedes; I just can't see it. And how are Fabrevans shippers racist and sexist? Samcedes shipper say we are and I seriously want to punch them.**

**Anyways... Let me know what you thought. Love it? Hate it? I want to know. **

**R&R **


	13. Weeks After

**Okay. Here's the next chapter. But before we get to this, who else saw Glee on Tuesday? Tell me were any of you ecstatic during that Fabrevans scene? "You deserve good things." That was beautiful. Fabrevans being endgame is getting more and more likely. The Samcedes shippers on Tumblr were so sad. My life is content. **

**Anyways I wrote this during final exams, so be thankful. Enjoy!**

Quinn's POV

The next few weeks were thankfully normal. After going home that night, after Sam and my "talk" I had convinced my head, my heart not so much, that I needed to move on. Sam's perfectly happy with his wife and _her _child. I told him, I had done what I needed to do and he didn't believe me. I am no longer involved with him.

My slightly bloated stomach might say otherwise; but as far as anyone else is concerned this is my baby. I know that I'm going to have to tell Santana and Brittany who the baby's father is sooner or later; but I chose not to think about that at this time. I'm probably going to have to tell them sooner than later because they are coming home this morning from Milan. They, unlike Mallory, had stayed in Milan for the full month; enjoying it quite a bit as I figured from their video chats and postcards. They liked the idea of not having someone to boss them around; they liked being independent.

And I should too. I don't need a man. Sure Santana and Brittany have each other to love and cherish; but I have this unborn baby in my womb. And about 8 months later it would be out, hopefully happy and healthy. But whatever happened, I knew that it would be perfect. I don't know if I'm ever going to tell Sam about it, maybe someday. As of right now, this was _my_ baby and the father will be unknown. Telling Santana and Brittany is what I'm scared of.

Could I tell them the truth? What would they think of me? Having an affair with a married man. If that had been anyone else, I'm sure that I'd be calling them a slut and desperate. Am I that? No I'm not; I loved, and probably still love, this aforementioned man. Yeah, I still love him; I'll just come out and say it now. Denying it wouldn't be right. Santana and Brittany are my best and only friends, could I lie to them about something like this? It didn't matter because when the baby would be born, it would ofcourse have some of Sam's features and I'm sure Santana, if not both of them, would be able to pick him out. I sigh, I'm going to have to tell them, and hopefully they'd support me.

It's a Saturday morning, bright and beautiful. June and summer was closing in on Los Angeles and I couldn't be any happier. A new season meant new beginnings, and I was desperate for new beginnings. I wanted to hate Sam for what he did to me; for what he said to me, but I couldn't. I couldn't because, when you love someone that much, you can't hate them. To say that I didn't play back ever second of our time together would be a giant lie. I dream about it sometimes, there was one time that that was all I'd think about. Sam being mine is too good to be true, and it will never happen.

These are the thoughts flowing through my brain as I sit on my couch in my apartment, looking out at the busy Los Angeles streets from my balcony window. The sun is shining brightly; the warm rays hitting my face, it feels so good. I'm absentmindedly rubbing my stomach, my baby's in there; I never felt this joy with Beth, it was more fear and embarrassment with her.

I feel my phone vibrate beside me on the couch; I look down and pick up the phone, it was a text from Santana.

Brit and I are on our way over. See u soon!

-San

I smile at the text. I had truly missed my best friends; I needed them during their absence. I need them to support me, to tell me that it was going to be okay when I thought it wouldn't be; and that would happen a lot, I'm sure of it.

Santana and Brittany had landed, early this morning and had went to their house and then to work, to drop off their notepads and information they had gotten over in Milan so that the Times could publish it as soon as possible. They were heading to my place now; and I couldn't wait to see them, it had been a long month.

I hear a knock at my door a few minutes later and I get up. I walk over to the door and answer it; being enveloped in a tight embrace.

"Omigosh, Q!" Brittany squeals as I laugh and hug my friends "we missed you so much."

"I missed you too!" I say as we pull apart. We all giggle and I lead Santana and Brittany into the living room, sitting between them on the three seat couch.

"Tell me everything!" I say as I sit sink down in the couch, "about Milan, about you guys, about everything!" Santana and Brittany laugh at my enthusiasm, but I just smile. I hadn't had any one to talk to in weeks, first I had Sam, but not having your girlfriends aren't the same.

"Before we tell you about us, did you hear about Mallory and Sam?" Santana asks sitting up straighter like she always does when she's gossiping, her voice getting whispery. I frown at the idea of Mallory and Sam.

"Yeah, I know their having a baby," I say, trying to not show my annoyance, if I didn't tell them what happened, they'd never stop talking about it. Brittany and Santana just look at each other with a surprised look on their faces.

"So I take it you haven't heard about what happened," Brittany says and I give her a confused look. What were they talking about? Didn't I just tell them what had happened? Had something more happened?

"What?" I ask and Santana leans back against the couch.

"We went to work this morning and heard the news about Mallory and Sam," Santana says and I look over at Brittany who continues the story. They're weird like that.

"Apparently they got a divorce," she says and my eyes go wide, "it was finalized yesterday, in court." I want to scream 'WHAT!' but I don't. Did she just say that the got a 'divorce'? Why the hell would they get a divorce? I thought that he wouldn't leave his precious wife and "their" child. Unless…

I look down, trying to keep the raw emotion from my face, "that's terrible," I say, he probably found out about the baby. Why hadn't he called or said anything to me? That's the thing I hate about guys, their always so unpredictable. You never know what's going on in that stupid brain of theirs. Call me sexist, but all guys are just like that.

Santana scoffs, "don't be sorry for her, we heard that she and Nate, the intern, were having an affair," Santana says shaking her head in shame, "I can't believe she did that to Sam, if anything feel bad for him, he really loved her." Yep, suspicion confirmed. What else would it have been? Oh, well maybe he found out she was a lying manipulative bitch and divorced her and then found out about the baby.

My heart is racing at this news. If Mallory and Sam were divorced, that meant I have a chance. But why hadn't he come to me? Didn't he love me? I realize that if Sam did love me, he wouldn't have chosen Mallory in the first place. My heart cringed at the thought of him not loving me. I hate him for making me feel this way. Why did I feel this way? Why couldn't I stop my emotions? There seriously needs to be some sort of medication for that.

"She's knocked up too," Brittany says her voice full of pity, "how he found out, no one knows. It's just so sad that she would do that to Sam." Sad it is. Can't she see what she had in front of her?

"Sam was actually a gentleman about it; he gave her the house and everything. They had separate bank accounts and the only thing he took was his car," Santana says closing her eyes as the sun hits her face. So they're officially divorced. I don't know if I should be jumping for joy that they were divorced, or crying in pain that he hadn't come to see me. He could've called, or written, or texted or facebooked, or god damn even tweeted. But no, he did none of the sort.

"So where does he live?" I ask, not trying to sound too desperate in finding out. Which I am, I hope he didn't move somewhere else, which would crush my slim chances of being with him.

"Rumor has it that he has a loft in Santa Monica," Brittany says and I nod, "he still works at the hospital, he's been there most of the time, working like a maniac."

"You really didn't know about this Q?" Santana asks sitting up and I nod, I had no clue. But I should've been the first one that knew.

"Yeah, I haven't really talked to Sam lately," I say nervously and they nod in understanding.

"No one has," Brittany says, "we tried calling him after we found out, but he didn't answer, even Mallory hasn't seen him." And that's a bad thing how? She doesn't deserve someone like him.

"Why doesn't someone just go to the hospital?" I ask, feeling so alien. I just can't believe what happened. I genuinely feel bad for Sam.

"He refuses to see anyone," Santana says and I nod, no wonder he hasn't called. My heart aches out to him. He's hurting right now, I know.

"Listen guys I need to tell you something," I say biting my lip nervously, it was now or never. I can't hold it off forever, and what better time than when we're talking about the father of my baby.

"Yeah?" Brittany says, also leaning back against the couch like Santana. They must be really tired. I take a deep breath and test my fate. I just hoped that this didn't end badly, like most of my life has.

"I'm pregnant," I say and they both bolt up immediately, looking at me like I had just said that I was going to marry a zebra. Their eyes are wide and their faces are the definition of shocked.

"What?" Santana breathes her eyes bugging out, Brittany's doing something similar. They're frozen in place.

"I'm pregnant," I repeat and take a deep breath, "with Sam's baby."

This time Santana and Brittany both fly out of their seats and stand up, looking at me with pure shock, confusion and horror. That's an expression that will never get old. They look at me for a while, probably waiting for me to laugh and say just kidding or something. They of all people should know I don't joke about something like this.

"And I repeat, what!" Santana says and I pat the seats beside me on the couch, indicating for them to sit down and they do, somewhat hesitantly. I needed to tell them when they're calm.

"Quinn, explain yourself," Brittany says glaring at me, Santana doing the same. I sigh, it was honestly time.

"It kind of happened in a blur," I say truthfully, now that I look back on it, it all happened so fast. "Sam and I were just hanging out you know, going out to dinner and the movies, like normal friends would do," I say as Brittany and Santana listen intently, their faces solemn, "then one day we kissed and well, he put a stop to it immediately and told me how he couldn't do this because he was married and all that."

"Q, you didn't chase after him did you?" Brittany says looking at me in indignity, "that would be so wrong Quinn; he's married… or was for that matter."

"No, I didn't do anything after that, things went back to normal for a few days and then…" I cringe recalling the memory of that night in McArthur park, I decide not to go into detail and just give them the overview, "Sam and I got _really _close and one day he just showed up at my place and said he loved me, and yeah, it basically went from there," I say and Brittany and Santana don't say anything, they just take a few deep breathes for a while. They have a somewhat disgusted look to their face.

"And you two had sex?" Brittany asks, my explanation was obviously not clear enough.

"Yeah, we did," I say, suddenly embarrassed to have done such a thing with a married man, "more than once."

"Oh, Lord," Santana says putting her hand on her forehead, shaking her head, "I guess that doesn't make what Sam and you did any worse than what Mallory and Nate did."

"No! He loved me and I love him, it was nothing like that," I say and they both raise their eyebrows at me, "she just got tired of her husband and hooked up with another man."

"And explain to me how your case is different," Santana says, putting her hands on her hips in annoyance.

"We had love!" I say, love can conquer all right?

"That doesn't make it any less wrong Quinn," Brittany says, you know you've done something horrible when Brittany is chastising you.

"Oh, come on," I say annoyed by their grave expressions, "his wife was sleeping with another man and I knew it." I just then realized I had said something I wasn't supposed to because Brittany and Santana gave me that look again. Damn it now their going to ask why and get mad at me that I didn't tell them.

"What do you mean you knew it?" Santana asks, her eyes narrowing at me; that was quite intimidating.

"I might've eavesdropped on Mallory and Nate when I came to see you guys the day you went to Milan." I say looking down; I shouldn't have told them that.

"And you didn't tell us!" Brittany asks, clearly mad now. If there was something that could get them both furious with me, it would be the concealment of juicy gossip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even tell Sam until she told him she was pregnant with _his _baby," I say sitting up straighter, "_he_ was the one that came to me, not the other way around", I can tell their still mad at me, but have forgotten at this point for my sake.

"That doesn't make you any less guilty Quinn, you just helped him cheat," Brittany says sighing and I just look down, I can't argue anymore. What I did was wrong. What we did was wrong.

"How long was this going on Q?" Santana asks calmly, after a period of silence, referring to Sam and my affair.

"A few days," I say truthfully, "3 at the most." I hate the way that their looking at me; like I had just committed some sort of felony.

"A lot of things can happen in 3 days," Brittany says, looking down at my stomach, "I guess a lot of things did happen."

"Oh, come on!" I say with an aggravated sigh, "can you guys stop looking at me like I just murdered someone!"

"We just can't believe you'd do something like that Quinn?" Santana says genuinely, "what about what you said to us about not ruining their marriage?"

"I didn't ruin any marriage!" I say, furious now, "after Sam found out about the baby, he immediately ended it and said that he couldn't leave his baby for me. I then told him what I knew about Mallory and he didn't even believe me! I guess he found out some other way. She's the one that ruined their marriage not me!"

"He just chose her and that baby over you and yours?" Santana asked looking doubtful.

I look down, "well… I- I haven't really told him about me," I say and both Brittany and Santana sigh, I guess once you say it out loud, it's a lot more complicated than I thought.

"Why?" Brittany asks and that's when the tears start coming.

"Because it wouldn't have made a difference," I say sobbing, tears falling from my eyes, "he would have still picked her over me." I have no idea why I'm crying right now. Maybe it's the constant aching in my heart wanting to get out, or just pregnancy hormones; possibly both.

Brittany and Santana both scoot over and wrap their arms around me as I cry. If there's something that ends all quarrels, it's tears. That's where it stops.

"Shh, it's alright Quinn," Santana says, "he's a no good son of a bitch who doesn't deserve you or this baby."

"He said that he loved me but I knew he never did, he wouldn't have left me if he did," I sob and Brittany whispers soothing words to me. I realize the truth of my words, maybe before I didn't want to believe that they were true, but they were.

"Do you love him Q?" she asks and I nod, sniffing. How can I not love him? There is something embedded into my heart that will never make me stop loving Sam Evans. I hate that thing.

"Don't cry Quinn," Santana pleads, rubbing my back.

"Yeah, he's not worth it, you deserve better," Brittany says as I cry into her shoulder.

"I don't want better," I say, my tears soaking her shirt, "I want Sam." I wonder if Sam even wants me. Did he ever want me? He told me he loved me, that he wanted to be with me; but those are just empty words. Maybe we were just a one time thing, something that was never meant to happen yet happened in spite of everything. Something that was so wrong, but it felt so right.

"He'll come around Q," Santana says taking my hands in hers, "let's not talk about Sam anymore, he's depressing. Let's talk about your baby!" Brittany nods and I give a small laugh.

"Okay," I say sitting up and wiping my tears. I shake my thoughts clear of Sam. These mood swings must be part of the pregnancy.

"Are you sure you're pregnant Quinn?" Brittany asks and I nod, my period hadn't come this month and the doctor himself had done a test.

"How far along are you Quinn?" Santana asks rubbing my flat belly.

"About 3 weeks along," I answer counting the days quickly in my head.

"Do you plan on telling Sam?" Brittany asks and I shrug. I don't know the answer to that myself. Should I tell Sam? Doesn't he have the right to know? Not telling him would make me a total bitch.

"I really don't know," I say biting my lip, "I guess I should."

"It's up to you Quinn," Santana says, "by the way you said Sam was towards you, maybe he doesn't deserve to know."

I look at her, maybe she was right. "I'll think about it with an open mind, and then make a decision," I say and they both nod. I don't even know if Sam would want to raise this baby with me; no he would want to raise the baby, _his _baby. The question is if he would want to raise it with me.

"So do you want a boy or a girl?" Brittany asks and I smile. I can imagine having a baby girl, with blonde pigtails and pretty eyes, or a baby boy, with big lips and a goofy smile… Sam's smile.

"I don't know," I say after a while, "they both seem so amazing."

"That's because babies are amazing," Santana says and we all laugh; not talking about Sam was good.

"Any names you have in mind?" Brittany asks and I shrug again.

"If it's a girl, I might name her Christina after my grandmother, or maybe Ashley, I just always liked that name," I say furrowing my eyebrows, thinking of more names. This was nice; not worrying about Sam or anything else, plotting baby names with my two best friends. Perfect.

"I like Christina," Santana says and Brittany nods approvingly.

"Ashley's the name of the mean girl in all of those high school movies," she says scrunching up her nose, "Christina's cute, maybe Crissy for short." Santana laughs at her girlfriend's antics.

I smile and nod, "but if it's a boy, I might name him Jacob after my grandfather or maybe even Skylar, that's original right?" I ask and Brittany nods.

"I like Skylar, that's a cool name, all the other kids would be jealous of a name like that," Brittany says, her eyes lighting up like a little kid on Christmas day, talking about kids. Santana looks down for a second; we both know that Brittany loves kids and wants her own one day. It just makes Santana feel bad that she can't give her one of her own. Santana quickly lo1oks back up with a smile plastered on her face; fake smile, I of all people can see it from a mile away.

"Unh uh," Santana says shaking her finger, "I don't like Skylar, that sounds like the name of a dude in a band who has tattoos everywhere. I like Jacob; we can call him Jake or even Jakey for short."

"I'm still undecided on both," I say laughing, I couldn't wait to find out the gender of the child, 16 weeks couldn't come any sooner. If someone had told me 10 years ago that I'd be trying to decide my baby names I wouldn't have thought that it would've been like this. I would've never in a million years guessed that my life would turn out like this. I am and always will be the 'other' girl.

Oh how I wish that Sam were here right now; here to argue on baby names with me, or to hold me when I cried or threw up, which happened quite often. I just wanted him to love me. I feel like I'm 16 again, in that hotel room with Santana and Brittany in New York during Nationals. I had just wanted _someone_ to love me back then, now I know who I want to love me; and I'll never want anybody else. I doesn't matter what he says or does, or how much he makes me cry or how much he makes me want to kill him; none of it matters, nothing will change how I love him.

"We just want you to know that no matter what, we will always be there for you and support you Quinn," Santana says pulling me away from my thoughts, and Brittany nods.

"Aww, thanks guys," I say giggling, they really are the best friends ever, they know exactly when to do what they do "I don't know what I'd do without you guys." We all laugh before sharing a hug. I may not need Sam Evans; but I want him.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

It's Saturday, that means that I get to sleep in and that's exactly what I do in my Santa Monica bachelor pad. Sure it's different from my previous life, but it sure is a hell of a lot more looser. In that other house, house not home, I was never comfortable. The fancy decorations and big ornaments never made me feel like myself. I was raised in the Tennessee countryside; that seemed like night and day compared to my life now. My loft was more me: modest, calm, homey; not at all fancy and overpriced.

I've been living here the past few weeks; completely cut off from society. I don't want to talk to anyone; I don't want to hear their pity or their sorrow. I deal with that enough at the hospital everyday where people see to be dying like ants. It's odd; it's not just my patients, its people everywhere. I see mother's crying for dead children, wives for husbands, children for parents; it's crazy. Why the hell did I chose to be a doctor?

Sighing at the warm rays of sun that hit my face, I get out of my empty bed and into the bathroom. If I said that it wasn't hard to adjust to single life, I'd be saying the biggest lie of the year. It was damn hard. It's not just the obvious reasons that people would think a newly divorced man would go through; cooking wasn't a problem, I cooked most of the meals while married, Mallory was a terrible cook. Cleaning, yeah that was kind of hard, but the maid service does most of it. What's hard if being alone; I've always hated that. Not being able to talk to someone or to share your life with someone is probably the hardest thing I've yet had to endure.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, you needed a woman in your life. I spend nights thinking about the life I had, what I could've had versus the life I have now. I'm not blaming myself for Mallory having an affair with Nate; I'm blaming myself for what I did to Quinn. I pushed her away. She probably wants nothing more to do with me; and why would she? I rejected her. I chose Mallory over her. Any guy in this city would die for a chance with a girl like Quinn Fabray, and there I was having everything within my reach and I just threw it all away.

If there was ever an award for the biggest douchbag in the history of douchbags, it would 100% go to me. Quinn said that I didn't love her. That is anything but the truth. They way I feel about Quinn Fabray are not one that can be questioned, and it broke my heart that I made her question it. It was always her, I never wanted anyone else. Sure I got married and fell in love again, but I never forgot about her. If I could just change the way we ended, if I could change the way I did things then maybe I wouldn't be here, alone.

I didn't know where or what Quinn was up to; I had no idea what Mallory was up to either for that matter. But I didn't care about her; I cared about Quinn. Last night, I played back all our times together in my head. All of them going all the way back to high school. I had been paying with the promise ring I had given her in high school. She had given it back to me and told me to sell it after my parents lost their jobs. But I couldn't do it. I remember standing in front of a pawn shop, not being able to bring myself to go in. I couldn't sell it. I had always kept it. Even on my wedding day it was in my pocket; burning into my pants as I said my vows.

I had stored it away after that, not being able to look at it without feeling a pang of guilt. I took it out again last night and just stared at it for a couple of hours. I thought it would help me find peace with myself; that didn't happen.

I'm going to work today. I've been doing that everyday. I can't stand to be in this place all by myself. I know I should call Ryan…and Quinn. The first one I don't have a clue why; the second one is complicated. What would I say to her? After the way I treated her, would she even want to see me? I have no doubt that she knows what happened. Isn't the divorce in the newspaper or something? Would she take me back? Tough chance. I'd be happy if she could look at me after what I did to her. I beat myself up for what I did time after time. I'm not that guy. I'm not the kind of guy that just sleeps around with a girl and then lets them go after the weekend is over. I love Quinn Fabray, and hopefully she still loves me.

Getting dressed and eating breakfast, I step into my car at about 10 am. I'm not headed to work yet; I have to go somewhere else first.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

"I can't believe how cute maternity shirts can come in," Brittany says as she appraises a slivery top in her hands.

"I know right," Santana says, adding another item of clothing to her pile of ones that I have to try out.

"You guys do know that I don't need one for 365 days of the year right," I say watching them pick out more clothes, "I'm not even going to be pregnant for that long."

We're at the most chic maternity clothing store in all of LA, . Santana and Brittany are picking out clothes for 16 weeks, 24 weeks, and 32 weeks; to say this is chaos would be an understatement.

They're the ones who convinced me to go shopping in the first place. Saying something like 'shopping heals the heart' or some other crap. But to say that it didn't make me feel better wouldn't be true. Shopping for baby clothes and seeing the pictures of mother's holding their baby, all smiles and happy was definitely helping. It was making me feel happier about having a baby.

"Okay, we've racked the entire store and picked out the best this Q," Santana says putting about 50 different outfits on the chair in the dressing room, "go try them on."

I laugh, "you guys do know that none of these will fit me right now." I say and both their faces fall.

"Oh, well buy them anyways," Brittany says, "you can return them if they don't fit."

"  
>Uh, I don't think I can afford all of these," I say staring at the pile.<p>

"We'll make it smaller," Santana says and she and Brittany go picking out the best of the best outfits.

After getting the total down to 10, I'm standing at the counter to pay for all of it, while Santana and Brittany are looking at little baby accessories.

"Not far along are you now?" asks the middle aged cashier looking at my stomach and smiling.

"Just a few weeks," I say as she takes out all the hangers off the clothes and scan them.

"This your first?" she asks and I reluctantly shake my head.

"Second actually," I say looking down, "first in a long time."

"You seem young to have two kids already," the woman says putting the clothes into the shopping bags.

"Fist one I'm going to keep," I say a bit uncomfortably, I was still ashamed of getting pregnant in high school; why I decided to tell her, I had no idea.

"Oh," is all the woman says, she tells me the price a few moments later and I swipe my credit card in the cash register, pushing the appropriate buttons.

"Have a nice day" she says handing me the many bags.

"Thank you," I say picking up the bags before Santana and Brittany rush over and take them from me.

"No heavy lifting for pregnant chicks," Santana says and I laugh, but nevertheless hand them over the bags and walk out of the shop.

"So," Brittany says after we had piled all the bags into Santana's car, "since you can't wear any of those yet and since we haven't bought anything, you want to head over to Melrose and get our shop on?"

Santana and I both laugh, typical Brittany. The girl could really shop. "Why not," I say and Brittany cheers, telling Santana, who was driving, what store to go to. I smile, this was going to be along day.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

I arrive at Quinn's doorstep and gently knock on the door. I wait for an answer before knocking again, louder this time.

"You looking for Quinn?" someone asks from behind me. I turn around and see an elderly woman standing a few feet behind me.

"Uh, yeah," I say looking at the woman, "do you know where I can find her?"

I woman shakes her head, "she and two other girls left earlier this morning," she says before waling into the elevator and letting the door shut.

I sigh. She wasn't home. I need to talk to her somehow; calling wouldn't be right. I needed to see her face to face. I had so much to tell her and a phone call wound suffice. I pull out one of my business cards from my wallet and a pen from my pocket. I scribble a small message for Quinn on the back and stick it under the door before walking to the elevator and stepping in.

I drive to somewhere else that I have to go after that: my ex-wife's house. The setting is way too familiar: the familiar road, the familiar drive way, my old parking spot. I feel pain in the pit of my stomach as I look up at the house; I shared so many happy moments here. I haven't been here since that day in Mallory's office. But I needed to pick up my remaining items. Mallory had given me all of my clothes, but I still needed to get my belongings.

I walk up the pathway and up the steps. I stand on the porch and sigh. Going in as a guest is much different than it is as a host. I ring the door bell and after a few moments Mallory comes to the door. I can tell she is surprised to see me, she's wrapped in a shawl, her hair a mess and her eyes tired. Her stomach is larger than I last saw it; I rip my gaze away from it, it hurts too much to look at.

"Sam?" she asks looking at me questioningly.

"I just came here to pick up my stuff," I say shoving my hands in my pockets. Mallory nods and steps aside, letting me enter the place I used to call home. We walk up the stairs together as I walk back to my old bedroom… _our _old bedroom. The place is a mess; apparently Mallory's old house rules didn't apply anymore. The bed was unmade, clothes were on the floor; it was just a mess. I walk around the room and pick up the few belongings I have.

"Here, I'll get you a box," Mallory says walking out of the room, I nod and continue to gather up my things. I stop however when my eyes see something that catches my eye. It's a picture… our wedding picture. There we are, Mallory and I, looking so happy. I continue to stare at the picture, it seems like we're two different people now. Why the hell does she still have this? It feels like a slap in the face that she's still flaunting this picture around.

"Here you go," Mallory says dragging two boxes into the room. She see's me staring at the picture and her face goes blank, staring at me nervously.

"Why do you still have this?" I ask pointing at the picture and Mallory sighs. How dare she still keep the picture? After what she did, she has absolutely no right.

"You may not still love me, but I still love you," she says stepping towards me.

I scoff, "don't lie to me. If you did you wouldn't have done what you did," I say and tears form in Mallory's eyes, but I don't care, I'm beyond caring about that.

"And would you have done what you did to me?" she asks and I freeze, she can't possibly now about Quinn. Can she? Oh god dammit, that makes me the biggest hypocrite in the history of hypocrites.

"What are you talking about?" I ask trying to play coy. What if she knew? Man, life was getting more and more difficult.

"Oh, please," Mallory says rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her hips, "you think I don't know about you and Quinn Fabray? I have eyes everywhere Sam and those eyes saw you going into her apartment and leaving the morning after with wet hair, from showering."

My eyes go wide; she had spies spying on me? Well, ofcourse she did. This was Mallory we were talking about. "I knew that you never trusted me, and that you never loved me," I say anguished, "but tell me, what was this marriage to you? A game? Was it even real?"

"You tell me," she says pointing a finger at me, "you are just as bit as guilty as me here."

As much as I hate to admit it, it's true. She didn't do anything different then I did. We were equally responsible here, even though I was the one that filled for divorce. "If you knew, why didn't you just divorce me then?" I ask. Why the hell had I chosen to come here?

"I wanted this marriage to work out," she says crossing her arms over her chest, "but obviously you didn't, because you wanted her."

"This has nothing to do with _her_!" I yell, really mad now. This was not my fault, this was hers and there was no way that she was putting it on me. "I filled for divorce because of what _you_ did. Did you honestly think I would think that the baby was mine?"

"Sam, you believe what you want to believe and that's the problem with you," Mallory says looking me in the eye, "you don't rationalize and aren't practical, and that's your problem."

"I don't have a problem," I say crossing my arms over my chest, "but just tell me what he had that I didn't? I gave you all that I had."

"Well obviously that wasn't enough," she snapped. Damn, I forgot how much of a bitch she can be; I guess I had just been blind thinking she was that sweet, kind girl that I married.

"Obviously," I say, "I did love you, did you?" I don't care to hear her answer because it wouldn't make a difference, but I stay to hear it anyways.

"Yes I did, and still do," she says, her face softening a bit. Mallory looks over at the bedside clock and frowns, biting her lip. "Can we not do this right now Sam?" she asks.

"Why not, are you expecting someone?" I ask, but I already know the answer to that, his clothes in the closet was proof enough.

"We're divorced Sam," she says looking down; I feel no pity at all for her.

"That doesn't make a difference," I say, "seeing that you've moved on so fast just proves to me that you never loved me." I can't do this, I can't be here, in her presence, in this house, I just can't do it. It's too much, too soon.

"Just… send me over my stuff, okay," I say grabbing a notepad that was on the dresser and writing down my address, before walking out if the house; fighting the tears that are threatening to fall. She just threw it all away, what we had; she treated it like it was nothing. I don't love Mallory Evans, or Jacobs now. But it still pains me that she thought so little of our marriage.

I drive straight to work. I don't love Mallory anymore, but I could've for the rest of my life if I had never seen Quinn Fabray again. Sure I had always thought of her, and compared Mallory to her many times in our marriage; which is a real douchbag move. But if I had never seen her again, I wouldn't have this problem right now. I realize after a while, that I'm totally wrong. Seeing Quinn or not seeing Quinn, didn't affect what Mallory did. She would've still been with Nate.

Quinn Fabray is the only solution to the big problem called life. Everyone has that problem, and they all have one solution. Mine just didn't happen to be Mallory Jacobs.

When I get to the hospital, I park my car in my designated spot and step out, walking into the building and up to my quarters. I rarely ever work on weekends but things have obviously been different these past few weeks. The people her don't say much to me. The employees here obviously know what happened, but they don't say anything about, which is a relief.

I try to keep a happy face when I work with all of my patients, but it's so damn hard. Hours pass as I indulge myself into work, seeing patient after patient, there's about 3 that come in through emergency; a heart attack, heart failure, among others. I don't usually work this late, but I can't go home tonight. I might just work the night shift, you never who might come in through emergency.

Right now, I'm drinking coffee in my office, waiting to get called down for another surgery or something. I look around my office. All the many pictures of me and Mallory are gone; my once full shelf is half empty. I still have the picture of me and Quinn during high school. I just couldn't bring myself to bring it down. She means more to me than anything else in this world.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

My feet hurt like hell as I walk up to my apartment, carrying about 15 bags in my hands. I told Santana and Brittany that I could carry them up by myself, but right now I'm regretting that decision. It had indeed been a long day and my closet was getting a huge upgrade. I guess shopping does make one feel better; I hadn't thought about Sam once tonight.

As I step into the apartment, I almost slip on the something as I walk in; thankfully I don't. I don't want to risk a miscarriage or something; that would bring more sorrow into my already sorrow filled life. I throw the bags on the couch and search for what I might have slipped on, can't have a slipping hazard lying on the floor. My eyes find a small rectangular business card. What the hell? I pick it up and look at it… its Sam's.

I feel light-headed as I look at the card. It's the same card that I have, the one he gave me when he met me at my boutique. Why is Sam Evan's business card lying on my floor? I flip it over and true to my suspicion; it's not the same card. Theirs a note on the back…

_Quinn,_

_I came by and you weren't home. I need to talk to you. Please. Any time you want to._

_Sam_

I stare at Sam's perfect handwriting, running my thumb over the writing. What did he want? I guess I would never find out if I didn't see him. I knew that I couldn't sleep tonight if I didn't see him. I look over at the clock, its 8 pm and dark outside but I don't care. There are certain things in life that I don't think I can control, and this is one of those many things involving Samuel Evans.

I have to see him tonight and I know where exactly he is. I step out of my apartment with my car keys and take the elevator down to my car. Stepping in, I start the engine and start driving to the hospital. If he wasn't there, that would be a bummer since he didn't leave me his new address and there was no way I was going to his old house.

I have no idea what I'm going to say to him. Would I have to tell him about the baby? I should. What would he say to me? Would he be mad that I kept it from him for as long as I did? Would he be happy? Sad? Angry? These thoughts were all that went through my brain as I waited at a red light; it was taking longer than usual. Sighing, I turned on the radio to a random station. I continued to drive towards the hospital, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song that I had never heard before.

I was about halfway there, when it happened…

A giant truck collided with my car. The sound of metal crunching was ear shattering; glass flying everywhere. It was a scary sight. I could feel an airbag pop out and hit my square in the chest. I feel something crack in my chest; the pain was indulging me. I can see blood dripping down the side of my face; this was not a pretty sight. The last thing I remember was everything turning black…

**Yep. I chose to end it there. I told you guys more drama would come. I'm going to let you guys ponder what will happen next. Don't worry though, Quinn's not going to die; I'm not that cruel. Or maybe I am. You never know what might happen.**

**The more reviews I have, the faster I'll update. So, let me know what you think. Love it? Hate it? I want to know. Criticism is fully accepted so don't be afraid to leave some; I'm fine with it as long as its story related. **

**R&R.**


	14. The Difficult Task

**Ok, here it is. I just want to thank everyone for their reviews; they mean so much to me. For those of who don't know much about medical terms, there are a few used in this chapter. Don't worry if you can't understand them, they don't mean much; the only reason I know what to write is because I'm a pre-med student. And even then I'm not 100% accurate with what I'm writing, so if there's anything I said incorrectly, please bear with me. Without further ado, here is the much anticipated chapter. Enjoy!**

Sam's POV

I check my phone again. No new messages. So, maybe Quinn doesn't care and doesn't want to talk to or see me. Why would she? After what I did, who would want to talk to me? No one. That's who. I can't help the feeling the growing feeling in my chest; the aching. I look around the office and my eyes stop at the picture of me and Quinn at sectionals there it is again, the aching of the heart. God, if there was only a pain killer for that; it would've made my life a hell of a lot easier. I continue to gaze at the old picture; seven years old it was. Quinn with a big smile on her face, I have something similar to that; we looked so happy… so in love. I play back the images of her that I have in my head; she's still as beautiful, if not more as she was seven years ago. I groan and bury my head in my hands; brooding over Quinn is not going to help me.

What's odd is that I don't even miss Mallory. Sure I miss the aspect of having someone to go home to since my current living situation isn't that up to par, but I don't miss her in general. I should be thinking about her, her beauty, her eyes, her hair, her smile; but I'm thinking about Quinn's beauty, her hair, her smile, her breathtaking eyes that made me fall in love with her as soon as I laid mine on hers. Maybe I should go see a physiatrist; that might help… or maybe it wouldn't. No one can help me but myself and I'm not doing so well in that department.

I know I should really go home… or back to that apartment, which I do not consider home. I've been here since noon and it's almost 8:30. Staying cooped up in here is not going to help me. God, I'm tired. I guess I've been so caught up in seeing patients that I haven't had time to realize that. When did helping people get so depressing? If they're happy, I'm depressed; if they're unhappy, I'm depressed. Man, life is hard. Sighing, I take another sip of my coffee. I'm really going mad here. Like literally; I should check myself into an asylum tomorrow. Mallory seems to have been moved on from the divorce fairly quickly but I'm a mess. Well, I guess I was a mess before too. But this is insane. I'm going insane. And it all has to do with Quinn; if there wasn't a Quinn Fabray in this world I think I could be relatively sane.

I really need to get some fresh air, I can't stay imprisoned in a hospital all day; that's not only bad, but it can really dampen your already miserable mood. The white walls don't really help brighten your state of mind. I stand up; I have no idea where I'm going to go but I need to change out of these scrubs and get out of here. I'm am about to walk out of my office and head to the changing rooms when one of my nurses, Sally, bursts into the room making me jump. Nurses usually knock, and since she didn't, I know something is wrong. Not again.

"Sir, we have a patient in critical condition in room 87," she says her face grave but her voice trying to be calm, we must have a difficult task at hand. I sigh, so much for the fresh air. Now some might say, aren't there other doctors to do the job? There are, but I'm the best. I don't mean to sound cocky but in this profession you're dealing with people's lives and you always want the best person for the job. And that just happens to be me. Don't get me started on the pros and cons about being the best. Let's just say, there might be more cons than pros.

Thankfully, I'm still in my scrubs, changing time can be the difference between life and death; I pick up my scrub cap and follow Sally out of the room. I just hope this is not a kid; I can't deal with children right now. Not after what happened with Mallory. I couldn't bear to see a child die. We're practically running to room 87, which is on the other side of the hall; when time is not on your side, it can make life difficult. A lot of other things can make life difficult too but let's just stick to medical terms for now.

"Female, age 25 and about a month pregnant," Sally says as we run to room 87, reading off a clipboard in her hand. I almost think my ears deceive me when I hear her say pregnant. This is ten times worse than the child.

I almost choke on my breath. God, dammit. Pregnant? Well that made things more complicated. I couldn't save the baby _and_ the mother. That would be the most difficult thing I have ever done. Probably impossible; if I try to save the baby and the mother, I'll probably loose both. God, why me? Why now? I have never dealt with something like this. What had I done to deserve this? Sure, I don't go to church every Sunday, but I'll start going every day if it meant relief from this.

"What's the predicament," I ask trying to remain calm, pulling on my cap as we get to the closed room. I don't really think I want to know, since the patients in critical condition, it can't be good. Hopefully it will be rather simple, maybe then I'll have a chance at saving them both.

"Broken ribs, 5 to be exact," Sally says reading off her clipboard, "no lungs punctured, but she has severe heart damage. The ultrasound shows that there are pieces of rib stuck in the arteries and veins that go to the heart. There's also a rib blocking a capillary and small chunks of bone stuck in the outer portion of the heart. She was in a car accident." Damn you car accidents. They always make things harder than they need to be. This was going be difficult; saving the patient alone would be; now there's a baby too. God, after everything I've been through about babies, and love, and cheating; why the hell did this come up. The universe is trying to tell me something; probably that I'm an asshole who should relocate to Canada and live with the Eskimos; they seem like drama free people.

"And the baby?" I ask, pulling on my gloves. If I couldn't save both of them, I was going to have to save the mother. The baby or rather fetus since she's about a month along so it couldn't survive without the mother anyways. Well I guess it could under miracle circumstances, but this is no time to think about miracles.

"Still alive, but barely," she says shaking her head; it wasn't every day you got a patient like this, "I doubt it will survive." Sally's face saddens; Sally's a mother of three, herself and the prospect of a small, innocent baby dying is unbearable to her, almost as much as it is to me.

"Never doubt," I say, doubting will get you no where in life. I walk in the into the surgery room, shutting the door behind me. There I'm met with my entire surgery squad, all hovering over the woman. This must be really complicated since they're all here; about 10 of them. The room is hot and stuffy, like most surgery rooms are. I hate these rooms, especially the emergency ones; usually my appointed patients have their own better rooms; more open and less… sad.

"Sam, she doesn't have much time left," says Neal, one of my assistants. I shake my head; I didn't care how much time she does have left, there is no way I'm letting a patient die under my watch. It has surprisingly never happened to me, but there's a first time for everything; there was no way I was going to let this be my first time. This would just dampen my mood more. I hear the heart monitor beeping rapidly and am about to get my scalpel and see the matter for myself when I'm confronted with a familiar face, lying on my surgery bed. I just about fall to the ground… its Quinn Fabray…

I just about lose it right there. I feel light-headed and am this close to fainting. My heart is beating a thousand miles an hour and my head is racing; but I'm failing to manage a coherent thought. My emotions cannot be explained right now. There're a million thoughts going through my head.

Quinn… hold up she's pregnant? Holy shit, she's pregnant! A month, Sally had said, she and I had sex about… a month ago! Holy hell, shit! I feel like I can't breathe; my breath gets caught in my throat. My head is spinning and I feel like I'm about to throw up. Quinn was pregnant… with my baby! Why hadn't she told me? Well maybe she didn't want the baby to know that it had such an idiot, cruel, ass hole of a father. I probably have no right to know whether or not she's pregnant; I think I lost that privilege when I basically chose Mallory over her. But if she had told me, I would've stayed with her… right? Frankly I have no idea what the hell I'd do then. But that is a whole another story, she was pregnant with my baby and was about to die and I was the idiot in charge of making sure that doesn't happen. God, my life is screwed up.

I take a deep breath, which is hard through my mask and try to calm myself down and not think about anything right now; but it's so damn hard when she's right there. Her face is covered by an oxygen mask and she has a large gash on the side of her face. God, it hurts to look at her like this. Her face is pale and her body limb; I suck in another breath and grit my teeth for trying not to go crazy. I swallow hard and try to put a coherent thought together; which I can't. Why did they have to call me in to do _this_?

"Sam?" Jake, another assistant, asks since I've clearly spaced out, "we need to hurry up!" his voice is worried and urgent. I knew then that I couldn't let the baby… _my _baby just die. I had to do something and if it meant living with the major risk; so be it. In the heat of the moment, when I could barely keep up a thought, I knew that I had to _try_ to save them both at least. I could never live with myself if I hadn't done anything to try to save my first born.

I quickly snap out of it, if I keep standing there like an idiot Quinn could and probably will die. She didn't have time on her side and neither did I, if there was ever a time when your life seemed like a Steven Spielberg movie, this was it. "Right," I say walking over to the operating table and standing on Quinn's left side. I make sure that I don't look at her face because doing will so will lose what little control I have. Instead I look down at where her heart would be; on her chest… god, how many times had I marveled over that chest, over those breasts? How many times had I ran my mouth and hands across them? Now, I'm about to cut her chest open to look at her heart. I try to focus, to keep my thoughts and emotions at bay; which if anyone has ever been in this situation, I doubt anyone has, knows it's almost impossible.

"Sam we have to do a full sternotomy," Neal says already reaching for the forceps and the others obviously agree with him, because they're reaching for their scalpels, ready to open the chest. Are they crazy? Sure, hospital policy says that we have to try to save the patient always not the fetus, but I don't give a damn about hospital policies right now. This is my operation room and I'm the surgeon here, the patient is the love of my life and that's my baby; what I say goes.

"We can't do that!" I say and everybody turns towards me and gives me a questioning look. A full sternotomy is the best option to save Quinn, but there's no possible way of the baby surviving if we cut off all blood circulation throughout the body. "If we do that there is no chance of the fetus surviving," I explain to the others who exchange awkward glances with one another. Yep, they think I'm crazy. Which I probably am; but no one needs to know that. If anyone argued with me about this, I might just lose it; I'm the one that went to medical school for 4 years, some of them are still in collage, for crying out loud!

"Sam, we can't worry about the fetus right now," Neal says holding up the forceps, "we need to save her!" God, I hate when assistants try to take over. There's a reason that their just assistants. They assist, not take charge. I try not to lose it; I hold my breath to stop from chewing him out and take a deep breath.

"We do what I say," I say sternly, but under control, tired of arguing with him, I'm the surgeon here, he's my assistant. Neal frowns but puts the forceps down. Everybody looks at me with a confused looks; they're probably questioning my saneness but let them; this is the woman I love with my baby inside of her; there's no way I'm letting them die. This is exactly why I shouldn't be doing this surgery right now, but I'd like to see anyone try to stop me.

"What are we going to do?" James, a surgical technician, asks and I have to think for a moment. If they thought there was any way that I was going to let Quinn or the baby die, they were crazy. I go through the various tactics I could use in my head; there aren't much.

"An emergency thoracotomy," I say, yeah, it's risky, but it's the only way to save both the baby and Quinn. I have to do it. I pick up my scalpel and position it above Quinn's left breast to where her heart would be located. I almost don't do it, it's all just too much… her lying on the surgical table is too much for me to take; but I realize that I can't just not do it and let her die. I take a deep breath and using my scalpel and blunt forceps I make a tiny joint, about 4 cm in circumference, thoracostomies, which to those who aren't heart surgeons is breaking the intercostal muscles and parietal pleura; in the intercostal space in the mid-axillary line… it's cutting the chest open to reach the heart.

I'm sweating more than usual as I do this, and my heart is beating rapidly. My hands are shaking and I can barely breathe; not a good thing to happen when your trying to perform surgery. Thankfully, everyone is too busy with their individual tasks to notice this. I mention Jake to connect the thoracostomies with the opening following the intercostal space, and he does so, using his, unlike mine, steady hands. I'm sweating buckets; I should win an Oscar for staying so calm during all of this, Brad Pitt could never do this. He's won an Oscar right? I am really an idiot, thinking of Brad Pitt while I'm trying to save the woman I love and our unborn child; that is something I know for sure that Brad Pitt hasn't done.

"Give me the lung retractors," I say and someone hands me a pair, which I insert into Quinn, moving her lung out of the way. I pick up a pair of heavy scissors and continue cutting through her intercostal muscles and pleura. The time it takes me to do all of this is faster than it would take most people to say thoracotomy; when time isn't on your side, there is no time of dilly dallying.

After cutting through both sides and through the sternum with a saw; the heart is finally visible. I feel weak at my knees seeing how much damage has been done. There are chunks of broken rib bone in the beating organ, the collapsed rib cage is blocking the arteries that transfer blood through out the body, and there's a rib stuck between her bottom capillaries. I suck in my breath. Talk about messed up. I try not to get overwhelmed by the sight; I just take another deep breath and continue with the task at hand.

"Hook the CPB up," I say to Neal who gives his head a small shake. If he was going to argue again, I was going to come out swinging.

"Sam, this is not the right thing to do," he says and I feel anger boil inside of me, we don't have time for this. Who the hell even hired him and told him to argue against the best cardiovascular surgeon in the state? I try to keep my clenched fists at my side; which is so damn hard.

"Just do it!" I almost yell causing Neal to jump; everyone stops what they're doing for a second and looks at me but then continue to their various duties. I've never been this emotional during a surgery before and they all probably think that something is going on; sure they all know about my recent divorce, everyone in the state does, but this was odd if I do say so myself. Neal quickly hooks up the Cardiopulmonary bypass to Quinn's arteries. After I see the pumping of blood and oxygen into her body, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I have to take out all of the fragments of bones from her heart and have her original heart distributing blood to the baby soon; using the CPB gives me a little more time.

Using a pair of medical tweezers, I start removing the broken rib pieces from Quinn's heart. Thankfully the pieces aren't stuck in the organ's membrane and there's no bleeding because that would just make things more difficult. I have the other's remove the pieces of bones shortly after my attempt because my hand is shaking and I'm really making things worse. I lift up the broken rib that is clogging her capillaries and breathe a sigh of relief when I see blood gushing through them. This was going well so far, but I still feel like I've used too much time. The fetus can only survive a few minutes with the blood of an artificial transmitter; I just hope it's not too late.

We unhook the CPB as soon as we're done working on the heart, so that Quinn's heart can transmit blood to the fetus after cleaning the heart; I really hope it's not too late. The next few steps are fairly easy, we mend and replace the broken ribs but obviously they need time to heal. After making sure that there are no more damage to her heart or lungs, we finally relax somewhat… well the others relax, I'm still sweating through my scrubs. Surprisingly the lungs seem perfect; the ribs didn't damage them at all, while the heart almost failed due to the amount of damage. That was odd; if there was lung damage, I probably wouldn't be doing this surgery right now, someone else would've; but since her heart is the one that was damaged, here I come trying to be a hero. The universe is playing a cruel and evil joke on me. I still feel sick to my stomach; I need to get out of here soon.

While we stitch Quinn up, the heartbeat monitor stops beating rapidly and returns to normal speed. I breathe another sigh of relief. This had to be the hardest surgery I'm ever going to perform; and that would've been it even if the girl I love wasn't the patient, that just made it 10x more difficult. I can't believe that it actually worked… well I don't know if it fully worked yet, the OB-GYN has to come in and do an ultrasound to make sure the baby is still alive. I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't… I probably could never face Quinn ever again.

After we're done; Jake summons the OB-GYN to check the status of the fetus. I pull off my mask and cap, and dispose my gloves.

"Whoa Sam," the OB-GYN, an old man by the name of Jim says as he walks into the room and pats me on the back, "did quite a heroic job here."

"It won't be heroic is the baby doesn't survive," I say seriously and Jim nods, before walking further into the room, towards the operation table.

"What do you think?" he asks me as he looks at the lying patient, "you think the baby's alive?" I look at Quinn, who is looking a little more peaceful, still as beautiful as ever.

"I don't know sir," I say truthfully, how the hell was I supposed to know about stuff like this. Jim nods and he and his assistants start setting up for an ultrasound. My assistants, technicians, and I all step back and while everyone watches intently, I just look down. I really don't want to be in here; I need some air. I just don't want to know if the baby survived or not. I need to get out of this room. That might just help me clear my head. I carefully walk out of the room, undetected, and as soon as I'm out, I am immediately ambushed by a fiery Latina and ditzy blond.

"Sam!" Santana says running over to me, I groan, now I have to deal with her. Great. "Is she alright? Is she alive? How bad was it? She's not dead is she? The baby? Omigod she's dead isn't she?" Santana asks and my already jumbled up brain can barely focus on one of those million questions. Santana starts to shake and Brittany puts her hand over her mouth and tears splash onto her face; I realize that I haven't said anything for a while so I pull myself and my throbbing head together.

"Santana," I say rubbing her arms as she trembles, "Quinn's going to be alright." When I say that, it's like the country has just paid off all of its debt. Both their faces shoot up and the sad expression is replaced by an expression of pure relief. Santana and Brittany both squeal and throw their arms around me and hug me tightly. I think I might just need heart surgery after that.

"Omigod!" Santana says gripping me tighter so I can't breath, "thank you so much Sam! You're amazing!" Yep, of course I am when I just had to go through the hardest thing in my entire life. I honestly don't get enough credit for what I do.

"You're a hero!" Brittany says her grip just as tight as Santana's, and I can barely breathe; god when did those two get so strong? Hero? Not yet. Not until my baby is confirmed alive and healthy can I be a hero or except myself.

"Yeah," I choke out trying to loosen their grip on me, "I... uh, can't… breathe here guys." Santana and Brittany immediately pull away and remove their arms giving me the pleasure of breathing. I'm honestly taken that for granted.

"We're sorry Sam," Brittany says looking genuinely sorry, I laugh and shake my head, telling her that it's alright; guess she didn't change much after high school.

"How did you do it Sam?" Santana asks gesturing the room I just came out of, "the nurse told us that it didn't look good and it would be close to a miracle just saving Quinn herself." The miracle part was that I didn't faint when I saw Quinn. Yep, I'm a regular human superman.

"Uh… it was quite difficult," I say, was it ever. Difficult doesn't cut it, it was… not easy, I guess there's no better way to say it. And god damn was it really not easy at that. Santana and Brittany both nod in unison.

"And what about the…baby?" Brittany asks eyeing me and then looking away, Santana doing the very same. I know exactly the reason for their awkwardness; when Quinn wakes up, it's going to be an awkward conversation with her to say the least. Maybe I just won't talk to her; if the baby doesn't make it, I don't think I can look her in the eye ever again knowing that I didn't save her baby.

"I don't know about the baby yet," I say saying the awful truth. I wish I could tell them that the baby and Quinn were both going to be perfectly fine, but I couldn't. "But I just want you guys to know that I did everything in my power to try to save them both," I say truthfully. Maybe that'll make me a little less guilty; I feel like if the baby doesn't survive, it's my entire fault. It probably is too.

Santana and Brittany both nod and Santana goes over and puts her arms around Brittany's shoulders. "Thank you so much Sam," she says as Brittany leans her head on her shoulder, "you have no idea how much that would mean to Quinn."

"I just hope that the baby made it," I say looking at the room and then back to Santana and Brittany. How can I even look them in the eye ever again if the baby doesn't survive?

"Our chances are low," Santana says sitting both her and Brittany down on one of the waiting chairs. Brittany is silently crying on Santana's shoulder and I can't help feel bad; God, please let the baby be okay.

"They're better than you think they are," I say as Santana and Brittany embrace one another causing me to look away; was it always this awkward talking to them?

"You know, don't you Sam," Brittany asks after a while of my just standing there and them just holding each other. She looks up from Santana's shoulder and looks at me.

"Huh?" I ask, my brain was elsewhere; thinking about what an idiot I had been for not wearing a condom those many times; maybe one time was forgivable, but not like 5 times.

"The baby," Brittany says sitting up, and looking me in the eye, "you know it's yours." I almost fall over when she says that. I bite my lip hard until I can taste blood and swallow deeply.

My suspicion is confirmed. I am the father of the baby. The real father… of _my _baby. I can't believe what has happened over the past hour and a half; I've gone from idiot who lost the best thing he ever had, to idiot who was hopefully going to be a father. Talk about drama… major drama. I just stare at them for a while before taking a deep breath and letting my words out.

"It's true then?" I ask looking at both of them as they look at me nervously, waiting for my anguished reaction that was not to come. I didn't blame anyone for not telling me instead of myself. Santana looks at Brittany who looks back at her; they both nod at one another and turn to me and tell me the one thing that I already knew.

"Yes, you're the baby's father," Santana says looking genuinely sympathetic; well that's a first. I don't know what went over me; it was like I was finding that out for the first time. I guess hearing someone say it makes it truer than it already was. I am a father… I had impregnated the woman I love; most men would think of that as an accomplishment, but I thought of it as the horror. I have no idea how Quinn reacted to this. Did she want a baby? Did she hate me for not using protecting? I'm no worse than Puck, the man I had pitied all throughout high school. Well he had gotten her drunk and took advantage of her and stuff. God! I've literally lost it, thinking about what Noah Puckerman did in high school. I just wonder if Quinn hates me. Well she probably does and that might not have anything to do with the baby. I won't be surprised if she never wants anything to do with me ever again.

I don't know what I'd do if I found out that the baby wasn't alive. I wouldn't be able to live with myself that's for sure; this is why there's a hospital policy that doesn't allow doctors to work on their family, or friends. Too bad no body knew that I was in love with Quinn Fabray.

The reality was that the chances of the baby surviving were one in a million, but hopefully that one had decided to happen here and now. Miracles do happen right? And after all that I've been through, I deserve one right? Probably not, I've done this to myself. I've made my bed and now I have to lay in it. I honestly need some time alone to think about everything that's going on. I need to get out of this hospital. Well maybe go to the bathroom first, throw up and then get out of this hospital.

"I guess I already knew that," I say to Santana and Brittany who look down guiltily, they have every reason to be guilty, I had the right to know, but I guess I didn't deserve to know. I don't blame them, though.

"We're sorry Sam," Brittany says standing up and looking at me, "we should've told you or made Quinn tell you, but she was just so sad about it all and we didn't find out until this morning when we got back from Milan. Quinn was heartbroken Sam." I feel my heart clench at her words. Heartbroken. I had made Quinn Fabray heartbroken; she probably still thinks that I don't love her. God, I had so much stuff to clear up with her. Well, maybe she doesn't even want to see me. Yeah, that's probably it; I wouldn't want to see me after what I did.

"I just… I just need some time," I say before dragging myself to the nearest bathroom and throwing up all of the contents in my stomach. I get out of the bathroom stall and walk over to the sink and rinse my mouth. I splash the cool water over my face and appraise my self in the mirror. I look a mess. I'm still in my sea green hospital scrubs; I never did look good in those. I decide that looking at myself in the mirror won't do me any good; maybe people in movies can look at themselves in the mirror for a long time and suddenly ever answer in the world comes to them by some magical force, but that's not happening here. This might by LA, but it's anything but Hollywood.

I get out of the bathroom and speed down the hallway towards the exit of the hospital. I really don't want to deal with anything in that hospital right now. I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do. I walk out of the hospital still in my scrubs; ignoring the stares that come my way. I walk into the cool night and take a deep breath letting the fresh air flow through my lungs, that somewhat helps my throbbing head. Somewhat being the key word there.

I can't just stand here in front of the hospital doors, there are people coming and going in the hospital and I'm blocking their way. I decide to take a walk around boulevard; that just might help me figure out what the hell I'm going to do. I walk along the sidewalk and let the cool spring air hit my face; it feels so good after being cooped up in that stuffy hospital. I walk for what seems like hours and still don't have any answers.

Would Quinn even want me back? Would she think of herself as just some rebound girl because I had just gotten divorced and before that I had chosen Mallory over her? She needs to know the truth. She needs to know how I feel. I need to tell her, I need to convince her. That was the only ligament thing that I had right now. She was so much more than just some rebound girl. She was Quinn Fabray; the girl I had never stopped loving. I can almost remember the day before getting married to Mallory.

That night, I lay awake in my bed with the promise ring I gave to Quinn, oh so long ago, in my hands. _'I wanna marry you someday'_ I had said in that astronomy room. I meant everything I said back then and I still feel that same way. That night I kept thinking that I was doing the wrong thing; that I should keep waiting for Quinn. I remember calling Puck late that night; his number was the only one I had that I knew would know where Quinn was, since I didn't have Quinn's number. I knew that if I heard her voice, there as no way that I could get up on that altar tomorrow morning. I remember rejoicing with Puck, and then asking about Quinn; his voice had kind of gotten hard after that, he told me they were dating and that he was looking to propose to her soon. My entire world had basically fallen apart then and there. I had just wished Puck luck and hung up. I couldn't talk to him any longer, it was too much. The thought of Quinn not wanting me anymore is what drove me walk to the altar the next day; what drove me to say _'I do'_.

I hadn't thought about Quinn since seeing her in that boutique that day. I had avoided everything reminding me of her, sure there was the usual, _'Oh, I'm making bacon, Quinn loves bacon'_ thought; but nothing more. That day I had seen her, turned my whole world upside down; when she told me she was single I almost fell over. Then leave it up to Mallory to ruin every good moment. After that everything reminded me of Quinn. Seeing her and spending time with made me realize how much I love her. That I never stopped. It's always been her; I've always been looking for her, even though I couldn't wait, I've always wanted her.

The only reason I left her was because of the baby. My heart had been screaming at me to stay with her; as her heart was breaking that day, mine was too. When she walked out of my office that day, it felt like a part of my heart and soul left with her. I was never whole after that. I had made the unbearable mistake of listening to my head. I remember reading Wuthering Heights in collage. I actually liked that book, even though most guys thought it was cheesy and unrealistic; I had always thought it was great. What I did to Quinn was similar to what Catherine did to Heathcliff. I, like Catherine, listened to my head instead of my heart. Catherine's heart told her to not marry Edgar Linton and stay with Heathcliff, but she listened to her head, who told her to marry the rich, handsome man, Linton. My heart was telling me to stay with Quinn, to break it off to Mallory and be with the one I love; but my head was telling me that I couldn't leave my baby, I couldn't abandon it. I listened to my head and look where it got me. In hind's sight, I could probably still have been part of the child's life even if I wasn't with Mallory, I'm sure Quinn would've been okay with that. But the baby wasn't even mine and I didn't even believe her when she told me that. I doubt any one would've believed her in a situation like that; she did put a big cloud over my mind, a huge cloud that made me make Ryan hack several computers.

And then there was the baby. Was she going to tell me that day in my office? I knew that if she had there was no way I was staying with Mallory, I would work something out with her if the baby was mine; it was always going to be Quinn. I can imagine a life with Quinn, living in a family house in Los Angeles, with maybe one or two kids, maybe three. I can imagine the one that was already conceived; I'm sure it would be beautiful, probably break a lot of hearts one day, no matter if it were a boy or a girl. It would've been perfect. I feel tear drops falling down my cheeks. How could I live with myself if I lost all that?

Catherine died for her mistakes; I might just die for mine too. How could I live with myself without her? Heathcliff had said that he couldn't live without his life or his soul after Catherine died because she was his life and soul. Quinn Fabray is mine. I couldn't live without her. I would ultimately go crazy, I needed her like I needed air to breath; and god dammit it was time she knew it.

Quickly wiping away my tears, I walk back to the hospital. I had traveled quite a distance from the time I left. About 15 blocks, but I finally made it back to the lit up hospital building. I need an answer. I need to know if the baby is alive or not. I couldn't live with myself if it wasn't. It would be too much to deal with. I would never get to know it. I might never be a father ever again. I would never be able to forget; no matter what people say about being able to forget about miscarriages and stillborns with a lot of physiological help and stuff; I could never be able to forget. . I walk back to my wing, which is festive and louder than usual.

"There he is!" Sally says walking over to me with a huge smile on my face. About 5 other's followed her.

"You did it sir!" she says, at first I have no idea what she's talking about, "the baby and the mother are both alive; the fetus is being treated on, but it's going to be okay!"

Everyone starts clapping and I smile. The first genuine smile, I've had in a long time. I can now let people call me a hero, I can now accept myself. I had done the one thing I had to do. I feel like I big weight has been lifted of my heart; relief washes over me. It's hard to explain how happy I feel right now… well not happy, relieved.

"I honestly can't believe you pulled it off Sam," Jake says clapping me on the back, "that's why you're the best."

"I just want to say how sorry I am for doubting you earlier Sam," Neal says coming over and shaking my hand, "I should've just listened to you, it'll never happen again."

"Sam! You're a miracle worker!" Santana says hugging me again, this time a little less tightly, but still tightly.

"We're so luck to have you Sam!" Brittany says hugging me after Santana, her hug is still just as tight as it was before but I shrug it off before I have a collapsed lung.

"Atta boy, Sam," Jim says shaking my hand and patting me on the back, "never thought you could do it, but I guess miracles do happen."

It's almost as if I don't hear what they all have to say. I just zoned out for a moment there. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I had done something right in my life.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

The bright sunlight in my eyes is what wakes me up. I opened my eyes with a snap. Everything's white for a moment before the vision in my eyes finally returns to normal; then I notice where I am. In a hospital room. I whip my head around to look around the room. It's a normal hospital room; white walls, medical-techy stuff everywhere, flowers and teddy bears on the table beside the bed. Yep, definitely a hospital room. What the hell am I doing in a hospital room?

I sit up quickly and then realize that that was probably a bad idea because I am confronted by an aching pain in my chest. Groaning at the gut wrenching pain I lay back down; gritting my teeth from crying out loud although a few tears form in my eyes. My face crunches up in pain as I try to bring back the memories of what happened; but I can't. I can't remember anything. My head is aching as I try to remember; but it's not just that I can't remember how I got here, but I can't remember anything... anything at all. At this time there are 2 things I know at all; my name is Quinn Fabray and I'm currently in a hospital room.

Just then a quirky, middle aged nurse walks in through the door. "Oh, my dear!" she says cheerfully walking over to me carrying a vase of flowers, with a bright smile on her face "finally awake are we?" I don't say anything. How long have I been asleep? What's going on with me? My head feels empty, I feel like I don't know anyone or anything, it makes me feel so…alone.

"Oh, sugar," the nurse says as she eyes the IV supplement empty, "looks like you're done with those pain killers. Don't worry; I'll get right on those."

"I'm not in pain," I lie, I'm in a boat load of pain, but that's all numbed out by the loss of memory. I don't remember anything. What's my life like? Who am I? What am I like? Thinking so much is making my head throb so I stop trying to hunt my head for the memories that won't come back.

"Not in pain?" the nurse asks, furrowing her eyebrows, "I guess you should be too happy to be in pain, sugar. I would have to say that you've been granted a miracle. That baby of yours better be the next president or Nobel prize winner or something!"

My head snaps up when she says this. Did she just say what I heard her say? Or was I just hallucinating? The baby? What did she mean by the baby? Did I have a baby? Omigod! My hand automatically goes to my stomach; I don't feel anything, but maybe I'm only around a few months. Am I pregnant? Am I married? I look at my left hand to see an empty ring finger; I don't know if I should be upset or relieved. Who was the father? I look back at the nurse, "the baby?"

"Mmhm," she says looking at me after putting the roses on the table, "you look a little confused sugar; is everything okay?" I just look at her in confusion; was I supposed to remember?

"I-I can't remember anything," I say truthfully and the nurses eyes go wide. She eyes me and then gasps; looking solemn.

"Let me go get Dr. Evans," she says walking over to the door, "he'll know what's wrong."

**I wasn't really going to let Quinn and the baby die. Well I wasn't going to let Quinn die; I might've had the baby die if I wasn't in the Christmas spirit. Like Sam said, Quinn "deserves good things." But yes, she has amnesia. Poor thing. I had to add some more drama; if you haven't figured it out yet, I love drama!**

**Speaking of Christmas, I hope every one of my readers who celebrate it have a merry Christmas! And to the rest of you happy holidays!**

**Anyways, tell me what you think about the chapter. Love it? Hate it? Let me know. I know that I did kind of an obvious approach, but I had this in my idea way before I wrote this or the last chapter. Review and I'll update sooner. Thank you for reading!**

**R&R**


	15. Determining Her Condition

**I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas or holidays. I know I did. I think I'll be holding back on my other story until after I finish this one. Anyways enjoy!**

Sam's POV

Another day gone and Quinn still not awake. I checked on her this morning, and got the same result I've been getting for the past three days. Quinn Fabray asleep like the dead; the heart monitor attached to her beeping is the only thing that keeps me going throughout the day. She never moved throughout all of the times, she's still in the same position she was when I first saw her three days ago. Seeing her like that breaks my heart; I find myself going to church more often, praying to the Lord to bring her back to me, to wake her up. It wasn't good for the baby if she didn't wake up soon. She needs to move around and eat some solid food; we've been putting liquid food in her body through an IV, but that's not as same as regular baby food.

I find myself reading more and more baby books from time to time; my staff thinks I'm crazy when they see me reading a baby book from the window of my office, but then again, I might just be crazy. I don't really know why I've been indulging myself in baby books, maybe it's the fact that I'm going to be a father; yeah that's probably it. I've actually learned more in them then I'd ever known before; I bet even old Jim doesn't know as much as me.

I've been better. Still the anticipation of when Quinn was going to wake up was makes me anxious. Would she ever wake up? I knew I just had to wait; the doctor, me, knew that it could take up to weeks for her to wake up, but that didn't make it any easier. I was doing a lot better than before, but that still didn't mean good. I'm adapting to life alone; it's not that hard. Sure it's a little lonely, but it's not that hard.

I'm sitting in my office right now; drinking coffee and reading the newspaper; the LA Daily News, not the Los Angeles Times, that hit a sore spot. I'm reading about how some person was murdered in downtown LA when someone knocks on my door. I look up and see that it's Sally through the glass window.

"Come in," I say loud enough so that Sally can hear me on the other side of the door. Sally comes in and purses her lips; she usually does that when something's wrong. God, not another patient like Quinn, although I'm sure that it couldn't be as bad as Quinn herself.

"It's Ms. Fabray, sir," she says and I jump up, not really meaning to but I guess it's just my instincts, "she can't seem to remember anything." It takes me a while to register what Sally said; but after a few moments of thinking it through, I figure out what that actually means. And holy shit was I in a roller coaster ride for myself.

Can't remember anything? Like she doesn't _remember_? Does she have memory loss? Or worse, amnesia? Man, this can't be happening to me right now. How could she have memory loss when she seemed fine with her head; you have to have brain damage to have any kind of amnesia, Quinn didn't have any brain damage…right? I realize then that I actually don't know. My head is spinning right now; damn, why did my life have to get so complicated.

"What do you mean she can't seem to remember anything?" I ask walking over to Sally and standing in front of her, crossing my arms across my chest.

"She asked about the baby and then looked really confused when I told her about it," Sally says directing me to Quinn's room; she was now relocated to room 12, I made sure that it was close to my office because I really didn't want to walk all the way across the other side of the hospital to see Quinn. Wait, she doesn't know about the baby? What the hell is going on? This can't be happening to me right now. Not after everything I've been through, not this. She didn't even hit her head. Did she? Sure, there was a large cut along the side of her head, so that must mean she hit her head but she couldn't have hit it that hard to lose her memory…right? How can she not remember that she's pregnant? Don't women feel the symptoms of pregnancy all the time?

We are to Quinn's room in a short period of time and I don't even knock before opening the door. I just burst through; I need to see her, I need to hear her for myself. Quinn doesn't move her eyes from the ceiling as I open the door. I clear my throat and Quinn looks in my direction; at first she doesn't register who I am; there's an empty look in her eyes. Her stare is plain; there's no recognition in her eyes, nothing. I feel sick to my stomach again; she can't not remember me! She just can't; this cannot be happening to me right now. I almost panic, but I realize that Sally is right behind me so I don't do anything except take a deep breath and enter the room; trying to keep my face as calm as possible. I reach my hand back for the clipboard with all of Quinn's information; as if I need it, but I guess it couldn't hurt; Sally hands me the clipboard without saying anything, she must think that something is going on; I haven't been myself since Quinn came in and she knows it. After a few moments on intense silence, Quinn's face breaks out into a wide grin.

"Sam!" she says smiling, finally recognizing me. That was not the reaction I thought I was going to get. I literally jump up and drop the clipboard as she calls me Sam. I look at Sally to make sure I wasn't just hearing things; and by the looks of her face, Quinn had said what she's just said. I don't do anything for a while, I just pick up my clipboard and continue to stare at Quinn; what the hell is going on? There's a reason I'm not a neurologist, the brain is too unpredictable and just weird; I couldn't deal with that every day. So, she remembers me? How is that possible if she doesn't remember the baby Oh, God; she remembers the high school, me; not the recent asshole, me. I don't know if I should be happy or sad; I decide to go for both right now. This could be the chance I've wanted to redeem myself, I've wanted for so long.

I realize how much of an asshole I sound right now. I'm about to take advantage of her. That is not what I do; I can't do that. I just can't, it's not right. But who is to say that even if I do, she'll want me? If she remembers the high school me maybe she doesn't remember loving me; because as far as I know the whole loving me part came recently… right? I'll never be able to live with myself if I knew that I even tried to take advantage of her like this; I've sworn to myself and to Quinn that I would never do that, I'd never hurt her, and especially not this. She might never want to see me ever again after she finds out the truth, but I can live with myself if she didn't want me, but only if it was purely her decision and nothing influenced it falsely. God, this was going to be hard; maybe even harder than doing that surgery three days ago.

"What are you doing here Sam?" Quinn asks sitting up slowly, the smile never leaving her face, "I haven't seen you in like forever! It's so good to see you!" I can't think right now; how can this be happening to me. I don't even know if this is good or not.

"Good morning Quinn," I say politely and rather flatly to Quinn who smiles. I don't want to believe that she has memory loss; it can't be true. I look down at the clipboard because at this moment in time, I can't comprehend anything that I previously could; my aching head doesn't help that. I read off her physical test results in my head; everything seemed to be in order, she seemed healthy. They had even done a concussion test and she seemed fine; this was odd, but I wasn't a doctor that dealt with stuff like this so I wouldn't know. "It's good to see you too," I say smiling at Quinn because I can't focus on anything right now. Quinn just continues to smile at me and I continue to stare; I can't get myself to smile, I just look at her shocked.

"Sally can you give us a moment?" I ask without taking my eyes off of Quinn. She can't possibly not remember everything that happened between us. How is that even possible? We did tests on her… didn't we? Now that I think of it, I never got any deeper test results for Quinn other than the physical and that doesn't always detect small things. God, I feel like such an idiot right now. I should've done those God damn tests. Maybe then I could've helped her so that she didn't have memory loss.

Sally exits the room a few moments later, without saying anything; although I can feel her eyes on me as she exits, I know she thinks I'm crazy, but let her. Quinn averts her eyes from the door back to me; I'm just staring at her, with no expression whatsoever on my face. This can't possibly be happening right now.

"Sam?" Quinn asks looking at me in confusion as I haven't moved for the past five minutes. The initial shock of seeing me has worn off; her voice brings me back to reality, the way she said my name. It's different, than she's been saying it the past few months; it's hard to explain how she said it. It's just different; it's not the same tone of voice, not the same emotion behind it. It's the way you'd speak to someone you weren't close to, to someone you didn't love. She said it like she had in high school. That scares me.

I walk over to Quinn's bed and stand be her left side and force a smile on my face, "how are you feeling Quinn?" I ask and Quinn continues to give me a confused look. I'm just trying to play the doctor role and try not to hit the hard stuff right away; I needed to know what's going on first. I know I should go get the resident neurologist; Braden, but I need to see this issue for myself first. I hate Braden for the lack of a better word; he's the worst person I've ever come across. He cares nothing about people and the only reason he's doing this is because he gets paid more than anyone else in this hospital. He's always flaunting himself and his money at me; and people, despite his cruelty, love him. For some odd reason he could get people to do whatever he pleased; he's always was one up on me, and I can't stand that. No matter how much I hated the guy and his annoying smirk that made all the female nurses sigh dreamily; he was brilliant, one of the best doctors in the country.

"What's going on Sam?" Quinn asks now looking scared; ignoring my previous question just like I knew she would, "why are you here? Why am I here? I have no idea what's going on Sam?" She looks scared and unsure; this is harder than I thought it would be, I've never dealt with something like this before. I sit down on the chair beside the bed and take Quinn's left hand and hold it with both of mine; she flinches at my touch and that hits me hard. She has no memory whatsoever about what happened between me and her, none at all. She doesn't recognize my touch; as far as I know, she could've only remembered us briefly dating in high school.

"You're in a hospital, Quinn, because you were in a terrible car accident three days ago," I say and Quinn's eyes go wide and she shakes her head furiously squeezing my hand tightly.

"That's not possible," she says looking up at me, her eyes burning with confusion, "I don't remember anything about a car accident. And what's this they tell me about a baby Sam? Am I pregnant? I need to know what's going on and why are you here?" Quinn looks at me earnestly for the answers that I couldn't provide. What was I supposed to say to her?

"You've have amnesia Quinn," I say to Quinn who furrows her eyes brows at me in question, "you can't seem to remember anything that happened for a while now; I can't be sure how long though. I need you to tell me what you do remember. How do you remember me?"

Quinn looks at me in confusion for a short period of time before finally answering my question. "We went to high school together Sam, I remember us in high school; we dated and were in Glee club…right? That's all I remember of you" she says and I nod, indicating for her to go on but she doesn't, "did anything else happen?"

I don't say anything for a while; I just search in her eyes for something I don't know. Probably for some indication of her lying, some indication that this is all just a cruel joke she's playing on me; but her eyes shine with honesty and that's when I know that she really doesn't remember anything else. So right now, I've concluded that her memory loss could have been stretched from 7 years to 3 months. "You don't remember about your baby Quinn?" I ask after a while, I need to know this.

She just shakes her head, "nothing. Am I really pregnant Sam? You're the doctor right? I had no idea that you wanted to be a doctor? And you're in LA? That's where we are right? We're still in Los Angeles? I didn't know you were here; and I doctor too?" she asks eyeing my white lab coat before looking at me for answers. I smile at her; she has no idea how I felt seeing her. My heart aches painfully at her words though; she has no memory whatsoever about what happened between me and her, all those beautiful moments, all those ugly fights, all those smiles and laughs.

I realize that Quinn's holding onto my hand tightly because I can't seem to get them free; how am I supposed to answer her. Oh, God, what if she asks about the father? "Yes, Quinn, we're still in LA and I'm your doctor" I say truthfully, since she remembers that she's in LA, her memory loss can't be that bad. "You're pregnant; about a month along," I say truthfully, was I really going to lie to her; I watch her hand that wasn't holding mine, go to her stomach. She looked down at it with wide eyes and then a small smile formed on her face. My heart melted at that; Quinn looked back at me, with her smile gone and the confusion plagued expression on her face. I knew what happened to Quinn senior year with Beth and Shelby; Puck talks in excruciating detail. I knew that she wants a baby; but seeing her like this is enough to bring a tear to my eye; which I don't let fall because I, Sam Evans, do not cry.

"Who's the father Sam?" she asks me and I just about fall over right there. I can't answer that question; I can't tell her that I'm the father. That wouldn't help her right now; she needed serious help from a real neurologist. But the way she was looking at me; I couldn't bear it. I knew I couldn't lie to her; I couldn't just tell her I don't know…or maybe I could. There was no way of confirming me as the father without a paternity test, so before she got that, I wasn't sure of anything. I know that that I probably the worst rationalization I could come up with but its all I really got.

"I don't know Quinn," I say and Quinn's eyes go wider than they already were. She clutches her stomach and tightens her grip on my hand. I automatically feel bad for lying to her; she'd find out sooner or later about the father of the baby; she might even demand a paternity test right now. She'd probably hate me for not telling her; then again, she'll probably hate me because of many other things too.

"You mean I don't have a boyfriend or anything?" she asks looking at me, with those eyes that I always thought could see through my soul. God, was it always this hard talking to her; or in my case, lying to her? When did she get so intimidating?

I sigh; I need to go get Braden or someone who even works in the neurological department. I wasn't doing her any good being here. I decide that I need to do that right know. "Quinn, I'm really not the doctor that can help you right now. I need to go get someone who specializes ion stuff like this okay," I say trying to get out of the vice grip she's put on my hand.

"No! Sam, please don't go," the slight begging in her voice makes me knees go weak and is enough to drag me over to her, "I don't know or trust anybody here except you and I'm scared Sam; please don't leave." Her hand goes tighter around mine and her eyes get watery with tears. There is no way that I could leave right now. I reluctantly sit down in the chair beside Quinn and she smiles at me; the first real smile I've seen from her in a while. There was no way I was going to be able to leave her now. This was out of character for Quinn; she never admitted that she needed someone, she was always so independent, and this was different.

I fish out my cell phone from my coat pocket and call Sally using my free hand. I put the phone to my ear and wait for her to answer. Quinn eyes me questioningly and I smile at her, reassuringly… well I think that's a reassuring smile.

"Yes, sir?" Sally answers after a short moment, her voice questioning. It wasn't often I called her at work; usually it was for something urgent, I didn't really like to ask people to do things for me that I myself could do. I've never liked being dependant on people.

"I need you to go get Dr. Braden Michaels from the neurological department and bring him to room 12. He needs to have a look at Ms. Fabray," I say into the phone watching Quinn absorb in what I've just said into the phone.

"Very well, sir," Sally says before hanging up; I know she's trying not to ask questions about me and Quinn. It would be best if she didn't but I knew that I need to tell her sooner than later of what's going on. Sally's always been like a big sister to me; she's never questioned my decisions even if they were wrong sometimes and she was always there.

"What's happening to me Sam?" Quinn asks after I put my phone back in my pocket. She's sitting up on the bed, leaning back against the reclined pillows, obviously not comfortable. I don't expect her to be; the hospital beds are the worst when it comes to comfort. I made it my own personal mission to make sure she got the best treatment but there was nothing I could do about the hard, uncomfortable beds.

"I think you hit your head pretty hard which caused some brain damage in the accident Quinn," I say unsure of my own words, "and you've suffered some memory loss while you were at it, hopefully it's nothing to severe and you can recover soon." I realize how much I actually want my words to become true. I don't know what I'd do if the didn't. Probably go crazy. Wait… I think I'm already crazy; I'm going to go crazier, if that's even possible.

"Is that why the other doctor is coming?" Quinn asks looking at me with those eyes that made me fall in love with her as soon as they met mine, "to determine my condition?" I nod and Quinn just leans her head back against the pillows; her hand still holding onto mine as if for dear life. Quinn shifts uncomfortably in the bed after a while.

"Is there anything I can do for you Quinn?" I ask after a while of comfortable silence, "are you in pain at all? Do you need any more painkillers?" Quinn opens her eyes and shifts slightly in her bed; grimacing in pain as she does.

"I'm having some chest pain Sam," she says, her other hand becoming a fist and her eyes clenched shut as she the pain hits her. I jump up and unclasp our hands; I walk over to Quinn's left side and see the IV supplement of painkillers empty. I dispose of the empty bag and add another one in; satisfied to see the clear liquid gush into her wrist. It's only natural for her to have some pain; she does have five broken ribs after all. I've never done something like this; nurses are usually in charge of stuff like this, but all doctors know how to work an IV.

I walk over to the other side of Quinn and sit back down in my chair. Quinn opens her eyes and reaches her hand back towards me and I take it; letting her grasp my hand and smile. "I assume this is just a side affect of the accident," she says looking at me to confirm her suspicion.

I smile at her and nod, she has no idea how much of a side affect it really was, "you have a few broken ribs, but that's nothing that can't be healed," I say as Quinn nods in understanding, before closing her eyes once again, letting the painkillers sooth her. "Were you the doctor that worked on me?" she asks after a short period of time; looking at me through those big, beautiful eyes.

"Yes," I say stroking her hand with my thumb, "you had some severe heart damage and I'm a cardiologist surgeon so I was the one that worked on you." I watch her lips turn up into a smile; when did her smile make my heart melt? Well, it always did I guess; but I feel like she's having a bigger affect on me now.

"A surgeon huh?" she asks smiling, looking at the stethoscope around my neck, "I never thought that my Sam Evans would be a doctor; a surgeon at the least." I laugh and put my hand over my heart in mock hurt.

"I resent that Ms. Fabray!" I say causing Quinn to giggle, "I'm quite the doctor." Quinn laughs at my statement and looks down at my left hand that was holding hers; I watch her eye my ring less fingers and smile; she hasn't really changed in personality.

"I don't doubt it," she says looking back up at me, referring to my previous statement, "I just thought you were going to be one of those stay-at-home dads or husbands." I fight back the urge to laugh; she was never good at playing it coy. I keep my face even and just shrug.

"It's kind of hard to be that when I'm not a dad or husband," I say for the mere reason of not having her try harder to find out if I was single, I'm highly amused that in her current state, she still wanted to know if I was single or not. I'm actually flattered a bit; maybe I could work this out after all.

Quinn just nods, but I can tell that she's trying not to smile because she's biting the inside of her lip; I remember her doing the exact same thing on our first date all those years ago. "Well, are you thinking of becoming either of those soon?" she asks, keeping her face emotionless and blank; I have to bit my lip hard to stop from bursting up laughing; this was exactly the Quinn I knew.

"Seeing that I don't have a girlfriend and that I'm married to my job, which right now is taking care of you, I don't think so," I say which causes her to give a small smile and look down, flushed. I just smile at that; she's exactly how I remember her, only this time she's not playing hard to get. We don't say anything for a while after that; just sit in comfortable silence, waiting for Dr. Michaels, when Quinn finally breaks the silence.

"The nurse said that the baby surviving was a miracle," she says looking up at me earnestly, "did you do that?" I look down and blush; I've never been one to take praise lightly.

"It wasn't easy," I say watching her smile get wider and feeling her thumb stroke my palm. I look up in her eyes and our gazes lock for a moment. Quinn's staring at me with a look of pure admiration and…could it be love? I ridiculous shake that though away since she doesn't remember anything that happened recently and there for she can't love me. She might've been trying to find out if I was single or not earlier, in not such a demure way, but that didn't mean she felt anything for me. We don't say anything or do anything for a while; just stare at one another; I'm wonder how her eyes can be so deep when Quinn breaks the silence.

"I feel safe with you," she says her eyes looking in deeply to see my reaction, which is just a small smile, "I don't know why but I just feel like you will make sure I'm taken care of and make sure I'm safe." I smile at her words. There're all true; I was going to do everything in my power to make sure she was taken care of and safe.

"I will," I say clasping her hand tighter and bringing up our hands to kiss hers, I don't know if it's too much too soon, but I do it anyways, "I'll do everything I can to make sure you're safe and healthy." Quinn smiles as I keep her hand close to my face and turns over on her side.

Quinn reaches up a hand and cups my cheek using her thumb to stroke it. "You haven't at all changed from how I remember you," she says, a small smile playing on her lips, "you still care so much about people." I smile at her words; maybe having her think of me as just that is best. I don't want her heartbroken again.

Just then Braden opens the door to the room and walks in; Quinn and I immediately detach ourselves from each other and sit up straighter, but Quinn refuses to let go of my hand though. "Morning Sam," he says to me giving me a polite smile. God, I hate that smile. I smile politely in return, as much as I hated the guy, I needed to respect him, I bet he could get me fired if he wanted to.

"Morning Braden," I say looking at Quinn and giving her a reassuring smile, "Ms. Quinn Fabray here was in a car accident recently and I think she might have some brain damage because she has significant memory loss." Braden looks at Quinn and smiles gallantly at her before looking back at me; the smile not there anymore.

"I didn't hear anything about brain damage when my associates did the concussion test on her; we would've caught something then," he says reading through the clipboard with all of Quinn's medical records and information, "so, she's the miracle mother, huh?" he says this after a while and Quinn looks up at me with a smile and I smile back before turning to face Braden, who has a confused expression on his face seeing us together.

"Yeah, I guess you guys call her that now," I say not smiling, the baby surviving might have been a miracle, but it was a miracle I created, not some type of divine intervention; the news of the miracle that was done on Quinn and the baby by me had quickly spread across the hospital and even newspaper and TV reporters were here a few days ago asking me how it all went down, I had quickly declined doing any interviews or giving any information about the matter; God, I hated media.

"I haven't had a chance to see her yet; but now that I have, I'm sure she'll be called other things," he says winking at her which causes me to glare at him; he did not just wink at my girl. Quinn giggles and I clench my jaw; I don't do jealousy, but I was this close to pounding Braden's face in. Braden just chuckles and looks over the clipboard. We were actually in the same college class; rivals we were. Always trying to get the higher score on tests or exams; I never could come up to his level though. He was the typical example of someone who had paid their way to glory; his father was a congressional representative in California and Braden was quite the popular doctor. We went our separate ways in medical school, him becoming a neurologist and me becoming a cardiologist surgeon. Surprisingly enough after four years of not seeing one another, we both came to LA and were hired by the same hospital. We always despised each other, but not on the outside; that would be unprofessional and we didn't want to be that. Mallory had always liked Braden; all the girls had, he was probably the best looking doctor in this hospital, if I do say so myself.

"Okay," Braden says after flipping through the papers in the clip board and looking at Quinn, "I'm going to do an MRI to see what seems to be the predicament." He smiles at Quinn; that obnoxious, smile that makes me want to punch him. Quinn smiles back, looking a little unsure of what to do, she looks at me and I give her a reassuring smile which causes her to squeeze my hand. "So, Sam, if you wouldn't mind stepping out," Braden says pointing at the door, normally I wouldn't be upset by this, but I am now; why couldn't I be in the room when he was doing an MRI? I oblige anyways; I don't want to start anything by refusing and since he's treating her, he has every right to want to do it without me there. I stand up and am about to leave when Quinn says.

"No!" Quinn doesn't let my hand go and she looks up at me pleading for me not to leave; Braden just looks at the two of us in confusion and… jealousy? I guess it's kind of a tall order for someone to not admire Quinn's beauty and want her, "I want you here," Quinn says to me, with those pleading eyes that are so hard to turn down.

Braden looks at me and I just shrug trying to keep my smirk in; but it's so hard. It's not often someone refuses something he says and to see Quinn do it, really turns me on. God, Sam! Calm the fuck down, you're in a hospital for crying out loud and she doesn't even remember what you two had. She just thinks of you as an old friend from high school; even though we were never really friends.

"I like to work without any distractions," Braden says looking at me in antipathy before looking at Quinn and smiling, speaking much kinder, "Love, I can't perform the MRI on you if he's still here." Quinn opens her mouth to argue but I stop her before she can say more; it's not good for her to be arguing like this. I need Braden to treat her; he'd probably still do so, but I needed it done fast. I don't like him calling her 'love'; he doesn't even know her for god's sake! I knew he didn't do this with all of his patients, only the hot ones. Braden Michaels was the modern day version of a high school Noah Puckerman; cocky, arrogant, selfish, and a player; or as they both said it 'guys with needs' and I apparently was 'impotent because I wasn't like them.'

"I'll only be gone for a few minutes and I promise to come back as soon as he's done," I say to Quinn who shakes her head furiously, her grip not loosening on my hand, "I'll be right outside the door Quinn." I try to free my hand from hers but she won't budge.

"No, Sam," Quinn says, a single tear falling from her eyes, "please don't leave." The begging in her voice is almost enough for me to say 'screw Braden, I'm not leaving her side,' but I don't do that. I don't want to leave her; but I have to, I have to go because if I don't Braden won't do an MRI because he's an asshole who only cares about himself. I have to do what's best for Quinn.

"I'll be right outside the door Quinn," I say cupping her face in my hand and wiping her tear away with my thumb, "I have to go; but I'll be back." I try to reassure her; but reassuring Quinn Fabray is the hardest thing in the world. Quinn doesn't say anything for a while, but finally the look of defeat plagues her expression.

"You promise?" she says sighing, she was never one to like not getting what she wanted. I nod and lean down; cupping her cheek in my hand and dropping a soft kiss on her forehead, loving the way her soft skin felt under my lips.

"I promise," I say against her forehead, and lean back up to see Quinn's eyes flutter open looking at me in awe. I detach our hands and give her another reassuring smile. I glare at Braden before walking out the door. Why did he have to be so difficult? I swear if he tries anything on her, I'm going to kill him.

Braden follows me as I do, "don't worry," he says low enough so that only I could hear him, "I'll take good care of your girl," he smirks at me before shutting the door with a bang.

I sigh, trying not to burst through that door and beat the shit out of him; I hated that man. He better not test my patience; this was not something to be taken easily. I sit down in one of the waiting chairs and make myself comfortable. I was going to wait out here until Braden was done with the MRI; if he thought he was going to get rid of me so easily, he can think again. Good thing, I didn't have much to do today, because today was a day to make sure Quinn Fabray was going to be okay.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

The doctor, known as Braden Michaels shuts the door after Sam left and turned around to smile at me. I smile back politely; I have to admit, the guy certainly did look the part. He was tall and well built- not as much as Sam, but still- with light brown eyes and brown hair My eyes trail by the door again, to where Sam had just left. I know I was playing the roll of the needy, hurt, ex-girlfriend but I needed him. I really did; it was odd, but somehow I felt safe with him. I had never forgotten about Sam; I had never stopped loving him. He had been the one love I had holding on ever since high school; and now he was here with me, single too. He looked good. Really good, at that; he looked older, probably because he was, and taller, harder too- more muscular. He didn't look like the same kid I had known in high school; he was a man…and a fine man at that.

"So, Quinn is it?" Braden says to me causing me to break out from my trance and avert my eyes from the door to him. I nod and he smiles at me again, for what seems like the hundredth time. "I'm upset that I didn't see you sooner; a beautiful woman like yourself should be well taken care of," Braden says winking at me, continuing to smile; he's flirting obvious, and it's somewhat flattering at that. I look down and blush, smiling bashfully.

"Thank you," I say smiling at Braden as he unhooks the IV's and heart monitor that was attached to my body; his hands lingering on me a little longer than necessary. He doesn't make a big deal out of it though; he just does what he needs to do and leaves before anything obvious happens.

"So, you're Sam Evans's girl?" he asks while cleaning out my IV; I look at him and blush. Did it seem that way? Like Iwas Sam's _girl_? Is that what it looked like? I feel my cheeks get hotter; maybe something had happened between me and Sam.

"Uh… not that I remember of," I say looking down, suddenly ashamed; what if something was going on between me and Sam and I failed to realize it. Did he hate me for not? Was he hurt? Braden doesn't say anything to that; he just nods, continuing to focus on the task at hand.

"I didn't figure he would move on so quickly, anyways," he says placing the IV carefully on a table. I look at him puzzled; what did he mean 'move on so quickly?'

"What do you mean?" I ask curiously as Braden unhooks the restraint keeping the wheels on my bed from moving.

"Sam was divorced recently; rumor has it that his wife had an affair with another man, who impregnated her," Braden says looking genuinely sorry for Sam. They came off to me that they didn't like one another; I was going to have to ask Sam about that. I inadvertently gasp at what Braden has just said; that was horrible. My heart immediately felt for Sam; he must've been so hurt. If there was anything I knew about Sam Evans; it was that he loved without holding back. He must've loved his wife- or ex-wife in this matter- deeply. He would never marry her if he hadn't.

I have so many emotions burning through me right now: anger, sadness, sympathy, pity, guilt…and jealousy. Sam hadn't waited for me. He told me he would wait for me; that it didn't matter how long he waited; he would never love anybody else like he loved me. I didn't really think that he wouldn't move on eventually; I mean we had a high school fling, even though I would never categorize it as a fling, maybe he, like everyone else, did. I feel guilty because I had done that same thing to Sam; sure I didn't get pregnant by cheating on him, that was Finn; but I had cheated on him. He had gone through so much heartbreak in him life; and I was responsible for some of it, maybe more of it that I knew. Anger, because, the woman he was married to had the most wonderful man in the world as her husband and she just threw that all away; now that I actually think about it, I had done the same thing so I can't really judge her.

"You seem troubled by that," Braden says after a while of me just staring off into space; with my thoughts. I quickly break out of my reverie and look at Braden, who's looking at me with a concerned expression on his face. I shake my head and look at him with a small smile.

"I just didn't remember knowing anything about that," I say, it was true; I didn't know anything about that. I might've at some point and had that memory wiped away by the amnesia that Sam has suspected.

"You two seemed pretty close," Braden says somewhat coldly, I look down and blush again. To a stranger I bet me and Sam looked like a couple, but we weren't; at least not that I knew of. "How do you two know each other?" Braden asks gently turning my bed so that my feet are perpendicular to the back door to the room; not the door Sam had exited from.

I blush for what seems like the thousandth time; I wasn't used to strangers asking me about the man I've secretly been in love ever since high school. "We…uh, we were…high school sweethearts," I say truthfully, that's what Sam and I were in high school. Sweethearts. We used to talk about getting married and spending the rest of our lives together and we were in love; even if he doesn't think I loved him, I did, with all my heart.

Braden nods as he slowly pushes my bed through the door and down the wide empty hallway. There were barely any people in this hallway and it was quiet; the only noise was that of the wheels of the bed squeaking against the tiled floor. "So, what happened?" Braden asks as he pushes my bed down the hallway, "why didn't you two end up together?"

I look down; that was a personal question that I didn't want to answer, but I don't want to come off as hostile. "He moved away and we kind of lost touch after that," I say; it was only a tiny white lie; it's true that Sam had moved away and we had lost touch, but I don't think that's the main reason we didn't end up together.

"That's too bad," Braden says smiling to himself; I look at him confused. What was his angle? Why was he asking so many questions? What did he want? He seems like a fairly nice guy, but there was something odd about him, something I couldn't quite pick up on.

"So, no wonder he seemed so determined to make sure you and you're baby survived," Braden mused after a while, mostly to himself that to me, it seemed. My left hand, the one that Sam was holding, unconsciously drops to my stomach, running up and down the flat surface.

"He would've done that for anyone," I say; I have no doubt that he would've done that even if I wasn't the patient; he would've done that for anybody. Sam's that kind of person. He cares so much for people; when his patients hurt, so does he. He is the best person that I know. The high school Sam would've done that at least, but I'm pretty sure that they're both still the same person.

"I bet he would," Braden says, somewhat sarcastically, pushing the bed into another room. The new room was just like my other room, except the fact that it had an MRI scanner in it. I look around the room taking it all in while Braden pushes a few buttons on the machine and sets up for the MRI.

"So," he says after a while of making sure the machine was ready, he walks over to me, "seeing as you can't walk, the only option here is…" All of a sudden Braden puts a hand under my knees and another around my waist, lifting me up and placing me on the MRI table; his hands stay on my hand longer than necessary again, but I don't make a big deal out of it, I don't mean to sound haughty, but I was kind of used to stuff like this.

"I-uh… thank you," I say politely, lying down on the revolving table; Braden just smiles at me nods; I feel self-conscious as he looks down my now, covered by only a thin hospital gown, body; I don't like the way he's looking at me; it makes me feel like I did sophomore year… with Noah Puckerman; and it makes me feel uncomfortable.

"Sure thing, love," he says to me walking over to the computer hooked up to the scanner and sitting down on the chair. I felt my stomach turn uncomfortably as he called me 'love.' Oh, how I wish Sam were here. He wouldn't have made me feel like this; Sam's a true southern gentleman who would never do anything of this sort, like flirt with a patient. I miss Sam's hand around mine, I miss that reassuring smile he gave me; I just miss him. I wonder why he was being so open with me; that wasn't like Sam. Had something happened between us, that I didn't remember? If it had wouldn't he have told me? Then again, he did look uneasy while he was with me. What had happened?

"Okay, darlin' I'm going to just move you underneath the scanner," Braden says looking at the computer and then to me, "I need you to stay still and close your eyes okay?" I nod and Braden smiles at me; I didn't like that smile anymore- it made me feel sick to my stomach somehow.

I close my eyes and all of a sudden I can feel the table underneath me moving towards the round circular scanner that was beyond my head. Once the scanner was around my head, I feel the table stop and I hear the scanner buzz, scanning my brain. It does that for a while; I feel no different, I just hear the soft buzzing sound it gives off. After a short while, it stops and the table, I'm laying on, moves back to where it was. I open my eyes to see Braden assessing me before writing something down on his clipboard; he went back to the computer and clicked the mouse a few time and pushed a few buttons on the key board before returning to me and smiling again; I really wish he would stop doing that.

"So, it seems that Dr. Evans was kind of careless with your condition because he didn't have a proper brain test done on you that could've detected the damage," Braden says somewhat arrogantly, "maybe you should be moved from his care and into mine, I could help you since you seem to have some significant brain damage; that's not his expertise." I just stare at him for a while before I feel anger building up inside of me. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Sam Evans had saved me and my baby; I bet this guy couldn't even come close to Sam's level. Flirting with me wasn't the way to get things done here; I wish he'd just hurry up and get me back to my room so I could have Sam back at my side; my hand felt cold without his in it.

"I would very much prefer Dr. Evans to be my doctor," I say crossly; I didn't like this guy, no matter how handsome he was. He came off as a full of himself asshole; and that would never win you any points when it came to girls. There's nobody that I rather have treat me than Sam; Sam would make sure I would be alright, I am sure of it.

Braden puts his hands up to his chest as if to protect himself; "whoa, I'm sorry for saying that about Sam," he says amusedly, smirking; I glare at him, I really didn't like this guy now, "I'm sure he wouldn't even let me take you away from him, the way he was looking at you; it was like he'd step in front of a bullet to save you." Braden says laughing, and walks over to the scanner and pushes a few buttons; I look down and blush at his words. Was Sam really looking at me like that? I can't remember anything that happened between us; if anything happened between us. I seemed like something had; if it hadn't, why was he acting the way he was. Shouldn't he be mourning his recent divorce?

Braden examines the computer screen for a while before writing down something on his clipboard; I watch him as he does, what were the results. Did I have amnesia? How long did it stretch? After quite a long period of time it seemed, Braden stood up and examined me for a while more before walking back to my side and without saying anything lifts me back onto my bed. I readjust to the bed; feeling the familiar pain in my chest; but I make sure that I show no signs of discomfort; I just wanted to get back to my room as soon as possible.

"You're condition isn't so bad," he says reading off the clipboard before looking at me, "you have minor amnesia, stretching about 3-4 months ago, so you don't remember anything from that time to now." Braden starts rolling the bed out of the room and down the hallway, "I expect you to recover from your memory loss within a few days or even weeks- 3 at the most," he says as we head towards my room, "you should try to talk to some family or friends to help remind you of what happened, that might make your recovery time less. Also doing things you'd normally do might help too; I'd say going to work and running errands but since you've been put in bed rest until those ribs heal, that can't happen. Try talking to people who know you well."

It's hard to explain how happy I am at this moment. I was going to be okay; I was going to eventually remember. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders, replaced with relief. I bet Sam could help me remember; if something had happened between us like I suspected, he could help me get better faster. I plot the many people that could help me; there was Santana and Brittany, my secretary Lindy, I didn't really have any other friends and I wasn't close with my parents, so that was basically all I had.

We get back to the room, relatively quickly; I watch Braden as he opens the door to the room and pushes my bed in slowly and carefully. Braden adjust my bed back in its original position and hooks up the IV and heart monitor to my wrist; I groan as the heart monitor starts doing that annoying beeping again and Braden laughs.

"Ms. Fabray, it was nice meeting you, and I hope you recover soon; I'll be here checking on you every once in a while to make sure everything is going smoothly," he says looking up from the clipboard and smiling at me. I give a small nod and Braden walks over to the door that Sam had exited from and opens it walking out. I can hear him talking quietly with someone, who I make out as Sam.

What I do next I have no idea why I do. I sit up slowly and start combing through my hair hurriedly trying to make sure I look good; while I'm sure that I look a mess. I've just been asleep three days, of course I don't look good. I have no makeup on, my hair is all tangled up, and I'm wearing a blue hospital gown; not the exact fashion statement. I guess my instincts just made me; the man I was in love with was about to come see me; I couldn't just look plain or worse ugly which is probably how I look now.

After a few moments of trying to make myself look presentable, which is very hard to do without the mirror, if I do say so myself; in enters the man I'm head over heels in love with.

**The only reason I ended it right there is because this chapter was getting too long and I don't want anyone getting bored of reading such a long chapter. This chapter was extremely difficult to right; I wrote and rewrote it again and again. Hopefully it was good enough.**

**Tell me what you think about the chapter. Love it? Hate it? Let me know. I'm not too proud of this chapter; I feel like it's the worst one I've written so far; but I'd like to know your opinion. Thank you for reading!**

**R&R**


	16. Finding Out and Blackmailing

**I know that this chapter took forever getting out and for that I'm deeply sorry. I've just been really busy lately. And I've also been super pissed off about Samcedes and their shippers, and also Quick shippers, invading my Tumblr. I doubt either of them will happen too, but you never know the minds of RIB. What are they thinking using a Fabrevans scene and trying to make it into a Samcedes scene? They just want to show the world that Samcedes can be as perfect as Fabrevans, but that will never be the case.**

**Sorry for the long AN, I just had to let my readers on Fanfiction in on my opinion. I worked hard on this chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it.**

He walks in. a smile on his face and a clipboard in his hands. I asses him carefully as he does so. He looks good; better than good actually. He looks different from what he looked like in high school; sure he's still the same old Sam, but there's something different about him. He's older, a little taller, and maybe a bit leaner. He still has those same features he did in high school; those same lips, those same eyes, that same smile…well, this one isn't as happy as the ones I remember of him. I chose not to remember the sad smiles he gave me after we broke up.

He's wearing a white lap coat with his name: "Dr. Samuel Evans" embroidered right over the pocket above his heart. He has on a pair black dress pants and a pinstriped, collared shirt, a stethoscope hanging from his neck; his professional look is one I had never seen before. The black eye he had during the Hudson-Hummel wedding didn't really pass for professional, but this is a side of Sam that I had never seen before. And I can't help but like it; this was not helping my pregnancy hormones.

Pregnancy. I was pregnant. That hit me like a freight train; oddly it didn't hit me so hard the first time, but I'm not going to go into all that too much. I have bigger things to worry about. I was indeed pregnant; at least according to all the doctors and nurses here…and Sam. I had to get pregnant by a man right…I doubt I was that desperate to falsely try to conceive one. I wouldn't do something like that…would I? I doubt it.

If I didn't have a boyfriend or wasn't seeing anyone, as Sam had said, how the hell am a pregnant? It was Sam who said that…he didn't look so trustable. Pregnant means a baby. A baby. My baby. A baby that I was going to be able to take home, because there was no way in hell that I was giving this one up, no matter who the father was. I don't need anyone to support me now. I could support myself and my baby by myself and if I had to, I was going to.

A perfect little baby would call me mom. I would be its real mom. I guess it doesn't really matter who the father is in the long term because either way this baby; my baby; was going to be perfect. I knew it. I wonder if it's going to be a boy or girl. Whoa, calm down Quinn. That's months from now. First I need to get all healthy and recover my full memory than I can think about what color I'm going to paint the other room in my apartment.

I snap out of my thoughts just in time to see a nurse come in and place a tray of food on the revolving table in front of me. Sam's standing beside the door; not doing any thing really. I look down at the food that was just served to me. Well, at least I think its food. It looks edible, but that doesn't really make it food. On the middle plate there's something that looks like chicken or maybe its fish fillet, on the right of the tray there's a plastic container with a wannabe salad; can you be a salad with uncut tomatoes and a stalk of lettuce? To the left of the plate is Styrofoam cup of frozen yogurt which doesn't look so frozen. I guess the image I would paint in most people's heads of this right now might look disgusting; but realize this: I'm a pregnant woman, who hasn't eaten any solid food in three days. That does a thing or two to your hunger. And I being that pregnant woman, who hasn't eaten in three days, dig in the somewhat bland meal heartily. I really don't care that Sam's seeing me like this, there was a time that I would be super embarrassed, but he is my doctor, who knows what else he saw.

The rapidity of my eating takes away the sense of tasting anything, which is a good thing because I don't really think the taste was all that good. Sam gives a small chuckle at my speed of devouring the food, but doesn't say anything, he just smile, clearly amused. The nurse, this one a lot younger than the last one I saw, watches me with wide eyes and after I'm done gives a hearty laugh.

"Well, looks like you were quite hungry," she says laughing, I give a weak smile and Sam smiles at that, "I bet it's only natural though, right doc?" the nurse looks over at Sam after picking up my finished tray and moving the table away from me.

Sam smiles, "I hope so," he says causing the nurse to burst out in a fit of giggles, saying some witty comment, which I didn't think was really funny, and walking out the door with the tray, shutting it with her hand.

Sam shakes his head amusedly, before walking over to me. "How're you feeling Quinn?" he asks, sitting in his previous seat; the chair to the left of my bed.

"Fine," I say sitting up a little straighter, despite my pain, as he sits down beside my bed.

"Looks like your memory loss isn't all that bad," he says smiling at me, there's something else in his eyes… relief? Probably not, I'm just seeing things.

"Thank God, huh?" I say smiling for the first time since he got here; there's something about him that makes me feel relaxed around him. I don't know what it is, but I feel like I can be myself around him.

"If that's the way you see it," he says with a small chuckle, it might've been a harmless joke but there's something about the way he says it. Sam clears his throat, "so, how's the chest pain been holding up?" he asks, obviously trying to change the subject. I don't mind.

"Better," I say truthfully, although I still want more pain killers to just numb out all the pain.

"Hmm," Sam says, musing to himself. He stands up and unwinds the stethoscope from around his neck and listens to the beating on heart on both side of my chest, telling me to take deep breaths; making sure not to touch me with anything other than the listening magnifier on the stethoscope. I don't know what that meant or why I was even noticing it; but he was just overly careful to make sure not to touch me. I can't say that I'm not disappointed.

"You seem fine," Sam says, after winding the stethoscope back around his neck and writing something down on his clipboard, "your ribs and stitches will heal in no time." He stands up and walks over to the IV supplement, "you're going to need more pain killers," Sam says writing something down on his clipboard before turning to me and coming back and sitting down beside me.

"Do you need anything else?" he asks sincerely causing me to smile at his kindness.

"If you have anything that can just make all of this go away, would help," I say, only joking.

"I'm afraid we don't have anything like that, but I would gladly give you anything I can," he says smiling, that might just be a nice thing to say, but I can't stop the fluttering in my heart as he does say so.

"What will help me?" I ask after pretending to think about it, causing Sam to chuckle.

"Well, definitely not sitting here talking to me, instead of resting," Sam says in good humor, looking at my stomach briefly before looking back at me, "it's not good for the baby."

I laugh, although by the looks of Sam's face, he doesn't think it's all that funny, but he quickly covers it up with a smile, since when was he an expert at putting on façades? "Since when are you the ultimate baby expert?" I ask still laughing, Sam gives a small laugh and a thin layer of blush coats his cheeks, which he quickly tries to cover up.

"You learn a thing or two in 7 years of medical school," he says, like he's trying to hide something; I don't push it though, why would he want to tell me?

"Ah," I say nodding, "maybe I should make my baby a doctor; they seem to know everything about everything." I laugh, but Sam doesn't. His face gets a grave and solemn look to it and all the laughter and happiness is gone. Sam just nods and looks away from me. I want to say something, but I don't. What am I going to possibly say?

We don't say anything for a while and an awkward silence falls over the room. Sam's looking anywhere but me and I just keep watching his face. What happened? Why is he being this way? What did I say do to him? I'm trying to think of how what I said could offend him somehow, but I can't find anything. What did this mean? Ugh. There I go again, thinking too much into things I shouldn't be thinking too much about. I'm just about to ask him if I said something wrong and break the agonizing silence, but Sam beats me to it.

"So, you need your rest Quinn," he says taking my hand and squeezing it, "I should leave you alone now." He's about to let go of my hand but I don't let him.

"Sam, I-" I try to apologize and have him stay but he cuts me off.

"It's alright Quinn, don't worry about it," he says giving me a smile, though I can tell it's fake, "get some rest." Sam brings my hand up to his lips and kisses the top of it. His lips are soft and smooth along the surface of my forehand; making my heart flutter. Sam drops my hand after kissing it and stands up.

"Sweet dreams Quinn," he says after walking over to my IV supplement any making sure that there was enough pain killers in it. He walks over to the door and turns around one last time before walking out, he catches me staring at him and gives a small smile before turning off the lights and exiting the room.

I wake up to the sound of not so quiet whispering the next morning. I slowly open my eyes, letting them adjust to the light of the room. I turn my head to my left; where the whispers were coming from to see the ones who were responsible for waking me up. At first I don't register them; which is odd because you'd think I'd know my two best friends but at first all I see is a raven haired, Latina girl and a tall, blonde haired girl; the blonde whispering something to the Latina. The realization of Santana and Brittany sitting right there comes rather quickly; I'm not sure at first though, I'm not really sure about anything right now.

"Santana? Brittany?" I say questioningly, unsure of whether or not they're really here. When they both sprang up and whip around in my direction is when I know that I'm not seeing things. Leave it to them to always be animated.

"Omigod, Q!" Brittany says, crossing the short distance from her position to my bed in a mere second. She leans over and hugs me tightly; I little too tightly because the physical aching in my ribs is back.

"Uh… Brit? A little too tight there," I say somewhat hesitantly, thinking she was going to pull away soon but since she gave no indication of doing so, I had to take matters into my own hands. She immediately pulls away after I speak and looks at me guiltily.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn, I totally forgot you were hurt," she says as Santana stands beside her next to my bed. I laugh.

"Its okay, Brittany," I say smiling at seeing them, it's been a while in my mind, "it's so good to finally so you two."

Santana smiles and sits down in the chair beside me bed; Sam's chair. "Well, no one informed us of your awakening, so when we made our daily visit over here, we found out," she says as Brittany sits down in the chair next to her, "that super hot doctor, Dr. Michaels, told us about your condition and let us enter your room, which has changed, I never thought Sam would allow something like that."

"Mmhm, he likes to have you in his wing so he can visit you often," Brittany says. I have no idea what they're talking about. What do they mean I've been moved to a different room? I quickly look around the room; it's different, but pretty much the same. There's only one thing that brings me to sit up in belief that this is a new room; the door is on the other side of the room.

"Why am I here?" I ask, cutting off Santana and Brittany who were blabbering about some really hot doctor and how they were so scared for me, but then happy again when they found out I would remember soon, "this isn't my room." I can't say that any more simply. Why as I here? Am I no longer in Sam's wing? Why? Did he no longer want to be my doctor? Was it because of yesterday and the awkwardness? If anything, he was the one making things awkward. What had I said that had made him change my room and doctor; I have a feeling that this wasn't Sam's plan.

"We concluded that you were moved to the neurology wing, as one of Dr. Michaels' patients," Santana says looking at me confused as I look at her with a look of horror.

"What?" I breathe, not having enough energy to speak loudly. When did this happen? Sam was no longer my doctor? What?

"Are you okay Quinn?" Brittany asks, her expression like Santana's was confused. I, of what I remember of myself, rarely ever acted so clueless before.

"I don't know…I –"I'm just about to stutter through my explanation some more when the door opens slightly and in peaks Dr. Braden Michaels head to see if I was awake or not. We all look at him as he smiles and opens the door further and enters the room; the smile never leaving his face.

"Ah, Quinn had a nice sleep did you?" he says pleasantly and if I wasn't totally freaking out right now, I would've thought that his voice was mesmerizing; there was just something about it. He smiles at Santana and Brittany who smile back widely; real smooth guys.

"Yeah, I- I…why am I here?" I ask finally, just letting the question out, not caring the way it came out; not trying to find a better way to say it anymore.

"What'd you mean?" Braden asks, although I know, he knows exactly what I'm talking about. He just chooses to have me say it. I take a deep breath from going off on him; he did this on purpose, I just wanted to see what Sam was going to do to him once he found out.

"You know what," I say, no longer caring about trying to sound nice and sweet around him, "what am I doing here? I demand to be taken back to my room." Santana and Brittany both give me a look which I ignore; this guy was not what he seemed.

"Oh, well, since you had brain damage and memory loss, we thought it would be best if you were in the neurology field so that the right people can treat you through this," Braden explains to me, although I know that his intentions are not what he makes them seem, "you ribs don't need anymore treatment heal on their own and if not we'll have someone from the cardiology department come in and check it out." I didn't know what to say or think; all I knew is that I wanted to talk to Sam and ask him about this; the way Braden was so calm, it was almost as if he'd okayed all of this with Sam…maybe he had.

I didn't say anything after that so Braden put on his smile again and walked over to me, clipboard in hand. "So, Quinn, how are you feeling?" he asks, trying to be nice and endearing.

"Fine," I say, not really wanting to talk to him right now; all I wanted to do was grill Santana and Brittany until they gave me the answers I desperately sought after. Braden must've sensed my unwanting state of mind and gave me some space.

"Alright then, Miss. Quinn," he says, looking at me with a smile on his face, "I'll leave you and your friends to catch up then, I'll have breakfast sent down. I'm sorry if I have bothered you" And with that he was gone, out of the door, before I could say anything else. I just stared at the door he had just left from. There was something about him; something…I don't know how to describe him, I feel odd around him. Like I want to impress him, like I want him to admire me; that sure as hell is odd.

"Well, he seems to like you," Santana says smirking as she watches me continue to stare at the door. I turn back to her and Brittany and furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

"What do you mean?" I ask totally oblivious to what they were implying to, which causes Santana to roll her eyes and Brittany to giggle.

"The hot doctor obviously likes you," Brittany says still giggling; I give here a confused look, he does not like me.

"No, he doesn't," I say exasperated, "what makes you say that?"

Santana sighs in impatience, "the way he was looking at you for one and the fact that he kept smiling at you even though you were being a total bitch," Santana finally explains giving me a 'get it now?' look. I look down and blush; why the hell am I blushing?

"And by the looks of how red your face is, you seem to like him too," Brittany says giving me a knowing look which I do not comprehend.

"I do not," I say sternly, more to myself then to them, "it's a little hard to like someone when another man's fetus is growing in my stomach as we speak." There, that did it. That made them shut up; their faces going from playful to serious and pale in seconds. The room all of a sudden got very heavy.

"That's quite the problem," Brittany says after a while of awkward silence, Santana gives her a look as do I, but I don't think they are to mean the same thing.

"And, that problem is exactly why you guys and I need to have a talk," I say folding my arms across my chest as I leaned back against the reclined pillows of the bed.

Santana and Brittany both look at each other and exchange uncomfortable glances. "We really shouldn't tell you anything, you'll remember in no time, like Dr. Michaels said," Santana says avoiding my eyes, Brittany doing the same.

"He also said that having people tell me things I don't remember will help me jar back my memory," I counter back; they were going to tell me.

Santana and Brittany both continued to act awkward for a while longer before Santana finally gave off a huge impatient sigh. "God!" she sighed, "I can't take it anymore, what do you want to know Q?"

I smile, there's the Santana I know; the impatient, horrible at keeping things to herself one. I knew it was only a matter of time before one of them gave up; never did I think it was going to be Santana, but I'll take whatever I can get.

"Who the hell is the father of this baby?" I ask the question that has been eating me us ever since I found out that I was pregnant. Santana and Brittany's eyes both go super wide and they're faces look grave and shocked. Neither of them moves for a while; was it really that bad? Who could it be?

"Well, um… that's kind of a long story that we our selves don't know… the full details of," Brittany says, choosing her words carefully. I look at both of them for something… I'm not really sure what though.

"What do you mean long story that you don't know the details of?" I ask, could they make this any less difficult. This was like pulling teeth.

"You kind of gave us the overview, but we don't know everything that happened; that's between you and…well and…the guy," Santana says looking over at Brittany who takes a deep breathe.

I roll my eyes, this was really annoying me right now, "And this guy is?" I press on; I know they can sense my annoyance.

Santana and Brittany exchange uneasy glances for a while before finally nodding at each other; Brittany takes a deep breath and says, "Sam Evans."

_SQ_

Sam's POV

I slept in this morning. I had no idea why I did so. I went home early yesterday too; I really should go check doctor to make sure there wasn't anything physically wrong with me, although I doubt there is. It's all emotionally. I don't even know how to manage myself over theses past couple of days; it's been weird. I've been weird. And by weird I mean different; not like I was a few days before that. I seem a little less sad and a little happier, also a little less worried… weird huh?

It's all because of Quinn ofcourse. God, why the hell am I so whipped? She's not even my girlfriend, or my wife, heck she doesn't even remember me as of late. My baby in her stomach might say differently but all of what I said is true. Guys hate it when girls think that their lives revolve around them; it's not usually the truth, but I guess I'm the exception. Sure I have other things going on in my life, but she's always there, the constant worry or happiness in my head. These are the days I ask why I got married to someone who wasn't her; I never thought about Mallory all the time, sure I thought about her a lot, but not this much. She's not Quinn.

Maybe the only reason I'm still brooding over her is because there's still a chance of us ending up together; if it wasn't a possibility any more, I think I wouldn't be thinking of this, this much. I'd be trying to move on; I'm not trying now. I'm not even thinking about moving on. She'll remember everything soon so there's no point in trying to move on until she turns me down. I honestly don't know how I should feel about her remembering everything soon. It sounds so good and bad at the same time. Could I make her fall for me without her remembering everything? Maybe I could, but my baby in her would raise some questions with her about our past. That's for sure.

I'm cheerful as I'm walking to my office this morning. Coffee in my hand and the sunlight bursting through the windows is enough to brighten my mood. I smile and say hello to people as I pass them in the hallway; I know they're probably turning around and doing a double take as I do, like as if we were in some kind of movie. I walk to my office with a smile on my face and settle down in my chair, determined to read the newspaper before going and seeing Quinn. It's almost 10; she's most likely awake and having breakfast or something. There I go again, thinking about Quinn. I need to be a little more normal. At least I'm trying.

I try to focus my mind on the newspaper in front of my eyes, but that's extremely hard. My mind keeps going back to my last conversation with Quinn. She had said that maybe her baby should be a doctor like me. I don't know what I felt when she said, but I know I did feel an aching pain in my heart. Her baby…our baby. I can almost imagine him or her becoming a doctor…like me…like their father. Maybe that's why I almost ran out of that room when she had said that. The guilt was too much; I wasn't telling her that I was the father of the baby. She would probably hate me for that; but she would know that I was doing it for the best…right?

I realize that I will not be able focus on how Nancy Pelosi is launching this new Global Warming campaign, so I might as well go on to see Quinn. And also maybe bring some flowers with it; cushion the blow because you never know when her memory will come back to her. I stand up, leaving my unfinished coffee and unfolded newspaper on my desk and walk out.

I walk down to the gift shop and pick up a vase of flowers; I realize I don't remember Quinn's favorite flower, she never told me actually. So I get roses, all girls love roses right? Bright red roses are what I get her. I, rather quickly, walk to Quinn's room flowers in hand, I finally reach room 12. The door is closed, maybe she's busy or something; I should knock. And I do so, lightly at first, but after no response I know louder. Same response; none. I finally get impatient and just open the door without waiting for her to say 'come in'; what could she possibly be doing in her state that I would need to know anyways. What I see shocks me more than if she was doing something I was not meant to see. The room's…empty.

The bed that was once in the center of the room, that held Quinn, is gone. The flowers coating the tables are gone. The heart monitor, IV…they're all gone. I walk into the room, thinking my eyes are deceiving me. What the hell was going on? Was she released? That was impossible; she wouldn't be released without my approval. Was she moved? That wouldn't be able to happen without my approval either. What was happening?

I put my flowers on the bedside table and walk around the room, trying to find out what happened, but nothing comes to my mind. Just then a nurse walks into the room; surprised when she sees me.

"Oh, Dr. Evans, what are you doing here?" asks the nurse looking at me questioningly as if I was the only one who didn't know where Quinn Fabray was.

"I came here to check on my patient," I say looking around the room once more, "who doesn't seem to be here." The nurse, one whom I don't know, looks confused.

"Well, that's because she's been moved," the nurse laughs before looking at the bedside table with the flowers, "oh, we must've forgotten these." She picks up the flowers and starts walking out the door before I can question her further. I stand there like an idiot for a while. Moved? When the hell was she moved? She can't move without my consent. Where the hell is she?

I decide my best bet will be to follow the nurse and I do exactly so; walking a few feet behind her so she doesn't know that I'm following her. I find myself going down to the neurology department with her. Why the hell am I going there? Quinn's not there…is she? Why the hell is she in the neurology department? I am so mad right now, that it cannot be put into words.

This has Braden Michaels written all over it. He did this. I can't wait to deal with him. I'll make sure he never comes across me ever again. I should have never asked for him to check on Quinn that day. There are other doctors, other kind, endearing doctors who aren't such assholes. A lot of them, I was just stupid enough to think that the best had to be there to treat Quinn, right?

The nurse walks further down the hall to room 387, where Quinn supposedly is. She knocks once before opening the door; I'm about to walk in behind her when a hand holding me back on my shoulder stops me.

"Whoa, where you going there, Sam?" Braden asks stepping in front of my as he closes the door to Quinn's room and pulls me to the side

"What the hell do you think your doing?" I ask outraged, there was no way he was getting away with this. I shove him off of me and glare at him.

"Do what?" Braden asks smirking. He knows exactly what I'm talking about; that asshole, I just want to pound his face in right now. What the hell does he want? Well, Quinn, duh. He's so going to pay for this; this is a low blow if I do say so myself. You do not just go and steal other people's patients; that's just not right.

"You know damn well what you did," I say glaring daggers into his eyes and getting all up in his face, "you can't move her without my consent, I could report you." I jab a finger in his face. There, that ought to scare him; but why does he look so calm with this?

"Go ahead," Braden says in a mocking voice, "the board is who let me move her without your consent; don't you know you can't treat your own loved ones or friends?" My eyes go huge. How the hell did he know about that? What else did he know?

"What…how-?" I ask, unable to form words. This was not good, not good at all. Who had told him about Quinn and me? He didn't know about the baby did he? Oh, God, what else did he know? Braden Michaels is one of those guys who will use every bit of information they have against you; I'm surprised he didn't become a lawyer, really. He considers himself like a honey badger, weird I know, he takes what he wants, when he wants it. He does things without impulse and doesn't care what other people think about it; that's what makes him the most dangerous.

"Quinny over there told me that you two were high school sweethearts," Braden says pointing towards the door to room 387, "isn't that just so adorable?" His voice is sardonic and contemptuous; it makes me want to punch him. The nurse walks out of the room and quickly walks away without saying anything to us; Braden must've done something to make sure that happened.

"Don't call her that," I say referring to him calling Quinn 'Quinny'. I hated when other people, guys in general, called her Quinny, or Q; that's what I call her. When had she told him? What else had she told him? If she told him that we were just high school sweethearts, it couldn't have been when she knew all that much.

"Or what, Sammy?" Braden sneers, the obnoxious smirk never leaving his face, "look I just did what was right; it wasn't right for you to be treating her, your emotions could get in the way." I scoff; oh, now he's trying to play the good guy. Perfect.

"Quinn and I were a long time ago; high school! What emotions?" I lie, he didn't know about recently; I wasn't going to let him put all of this on me. This was all him.

"Well, your baby in her stomach might say otherwise," Braden says watching my face go from shock, to disbelief back to shock in mere seconds. Did he just say what I think he said? He didn't… he couldn't have known. How? Did Quinn have her memory back? Oh, shit. Now I'm so screwed. Braden was not going to just keep quiet about something like this. He was going to black mail me with it; I just know it. He already is. I want to laugh in his face and tell him he's crazy but my expression gives me away, I can't lie to try to cover it up. How did he find out? If Quinn knew wouldn't she want to talk to me first before telling him? Yes, she would….at least I think she will. What the hell is going to happen now? This is going to kill me. This is definitely not good; hell this was terrible.

I'm speechless; I have no idea what to say. "…How?" I choke out shaking my head in disbelief; how the hell did he know about this? What had he done? What else did he know?

"A paternity test says a lot Sam," Braden says patronizingly. A paternity test? When in the hell had he done a paternity test? My head is spinning a million miles an hour and I feel dizzy. Did Quinn know too? Oh no, know she knows that I lied to her; what if she doesn't remember yet? She's going to hate me. Hell, she probably does already. My knees feel weak; I put my hand against the wall to steady me and sit down in one of the waiting chairs. My breathing is getting heavy and shallow. I feel like shit right now.

"Does she…does she…know?" I ask leaning my hands on my knees for support; trying to steady my breathing. Braden shakes his head no and I sigh in relief, but then furrow my eyebrows. If she didn't know how did he know? "Then how do you know?" I ask turning my head and looking at Braden who's looking at me scornfully.

"I did a paternity test on my own," Braden says leaning back against the wall, "I was curious after the father didn't come see her or anything; but then again he was wasn't he?" Braden gives me a derisive, amused look. Is he doing this all because he wants Quinn? I would think this would derail his chances to be with her if he's planning on telling her it's my baby. What did I ever do to him, to make him do this to me?

"Are you going to tell her," I say, it comes out as half a whisper; my throat too dry to actually talk.

"Oh, no. you see Sam, your girl in there is one hot piece of ass, as you know, even though she's knocked up; but that just means I won't have to worry about protection when fucking her," Braden says standing up straight and crossing his arms over his chest, "telling her you're the father will only make her want you; and let me say this out loud if you understand, I want her too and the odds of her in my bed are a hell of a whole lot better if she stays in the dark."

I can't take it anymore; I'm boiling with rage. I don't know what comes over me; I stand up and shove Braden hard so that he falls against the wall with a loud thud. Thankfully there're no people in the hallway to see this, because if there was, I'd probably lose my job. Braden hits his head against the wall and stands up; I really shouldn't do this, but I'm too mad to care. I swing my fist into his jaw and knock him to the ground. I warned him not to test my patience… didn't I? Oh, well.

Braden just stands up laughing; like I hadn't hurt him at all but I know I had, he's not that great of an actor. "Careful, Sam," he says dusting imaginary dirt off his shoulders, "wouldn't want Quinn to know who you really are." I want to punch him again but I contain myself; we don't need any blood here, that would just make things worse.

"I swear if you touch her, I will kill you," I say towering over him, thanks to my height advantage. I'm not even joking when I say that.

"Oh, will you now?" Braden says sarcastically, "what if she wanted me? Would you really kill me if it meant hurting her, oh so noble Sam?" His smirk was really pissing me off.

"She'll never want you," I say confidently; there was no way Quinn would even be attracted to a detestable, jerk like Braden Michaels.

"Don't be so sure Samuel," he says mockingly, the smirk still on his face, "I'm her doctor now, I'm the one who's going to take care of her, the one that's going to make her all better. Tell me now, don't you watch those cheesy, romance movies?" I was boiling with anger…and jealousy. There, I'll admit it. Quinn Fabray was mine. And if Braden thought he was just going to waltz in and take her from me; he was in for a roller coaster ride himself.

"I'm the one who saved her and the baby," I say, why the hell am I trying to prove myself to him? What the hell did he know? I didn't need to prove shit to him.

"Only because you had something in it," Braden says assertively, "you wouldn't have done it if it wasn't you baby." I can't help thinking he might be right. No. He wasn't. I would've done that for anybody, it didn't matter who it was or whose baby it was. Even if it was Braden's baby I would've done everything in my power to save it. Thinking of Quinn and Braden's baby makes me want to vomit so I don't dwell on it any longer.

"We both know that's not true," I say confidently, "I would've done that if it was anybody." Maybe the confidence in my voice makes it truer.

"Keep telling yourself that," Braden says sneering at me, "I don't have time to sit here and deal with you right now Sam, I, unlike you, have other business to attend to, good luck explaining to Quinn. I know she'll never take you back." And with that he's gone; walking away down the hallway to do God knows what.

I watch him go; what the hell had just happened? How had this happened? Oh, God, why me? Was he right about Quinn? About her never taking me back? I want to punch myself in the head. God dammit Sam! Why the hell are you listening to him? He doesn't know shit! Sighing, I avert my eyes to the door of room 387.

Deciding to take a bold move, I have no idea why, I've never been bold before, well except that one time I tried to kiss Quinn in the astrology room; this was going to get me nowhere, but I do it anyways. I walk towards the door and knock on it lightly; before entering…ready to meet my fate.

**Do you all hate Braden? I know I do. But he's here to stir up dram which I love and hopefully you love too. I honestly can't believe I've written 16 chapters already; I can't thank you guys enough for reading and reviewing, it means a lot to me.**

**So, what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know. **

**R&R**


	17. Mistakes

**Yeah, I know; I took forever with this chapter, but here it is. I had some major writers block with this chapter; I had two scenarios written and was so sure that I was going to upload the other scenario, but at the last second I changed my mind and decided to go with this one instead. Also, the whole Samcedes kiss wasn't helping my Fabrevans mood. Ew! This one is pretty long, beyond 10,000 words, don't get bored with me. Anyways, enjoy!**

Quinn's POV

We just sat there, all three of us; not talking, not moving, just lost in our own thoughts. At least I was lost in my own thoughts. Could there have been any bigger of a bombshell dropped? Probably not, but I wasn't going to test that. The last time one of us had said something was when Brittany had uttered the name: Sam Evans. There it was; said out loud and in the open, there was no denying it. I don't know when, but somehow I found myself clutching my lower abdomen.

This was scary. Beyond scary; and odd, and shocking, and confusing, and implausible (if I do say so myself), and perplexed, and… I could go on and on, but for all sake, I won't. I was carrying Sam Evans baby. It doesn't get anymore simpler than that. I had nothing to say to that; no response, nothing. I didn't know what to say; or for that matter what to feel. Should I be happy? Sad? Mad? Upset? Worried? I don't know.

I'm staring at the white wall facing my bed, while Santana and Brittany are staring at me, waiting for a reaction they weren't going to get. The tray of food the nurse had brought in, a while ago, remained untouched on the revolving table in front of me. The flowers that were brought in a few moments ago, which were new and I had planned to inspect them, were just sitting on the bedside table. I didn't know what to do.

Sam Evans. That's all that was going through my head at the moment. Sam. Evans. When the hell did this happen? I was pregnant with Sam Evans baby; how? We had of have sex…unless, I was desperate and Sam was a sperm donor, but that seems too far-fetched to be dwelled on, so I didn't, even though everything was far-fetched now. So Sam and I were together? I didn't remember anything of that, and he didn't mention it at all. If we were together, why wouldn't he mention it?

Wait; Braden had said that Sam was just recently divorced because his wife was impregnated by another man. Recently divorced? How recently? One month recently? Because that's how far I was along and we had to have had sex one month ago. Maybe I was just the rebound girl. Maybe that's why Sam hadn't said anything about that; because he didn't love me. To think he did love me was way too fanciful, on my part. Had he known about the baby? If he had, he would've told me that he was the father, even if he didn't love me…right? Why didn't he tell me? Maybe he didn't know. That was possible, maybe I didn't tell him because it might've been a rebounding one night stand, in which Sam was lonely and I loved him so I let it happen. If that was the case, it wasn't his fault.

Yep, I loved Sam Evans. My former mind told me that; my three months ago mind. Sam Evans was the one love I had been holding on since high school. That was as accurate as it gets. I loved him; unconditionally and irrevocably. Okay, when did I start sounding like Bella Swan? There was just no other way to say it. I didn't know how it went down, or how it happened, but in a way I was relived that the father of my baby wasn't some psycho path or criminal or something. Nothing against psycho paths, or criminals. There was nothing I could do about this situation, I was stuck with it. Maybe that was the wrong choice of words; I didn't regret this baby, I would never do that, but there was no going back from here.

In a way I feel mad. Sam failed to mention any of this. Why? I wanted to know. Is this why he was so awkward yesterday? Why he had me moved to a different room? All because he didn't want to deal with me or this baby anymore? That didn't seem like Sam. Not the Sam I knew. Well the Sam I knew was the Sam of seven years ago; people change, but for the better…right? If Sam Evans didn't want to be a part of my or our baby's life, then fine. So be it. I didn't need him.

Maybe that's why he worked so hard to save the baby; because he felt like he was in debt to me and owed me something. Well, we were even now. I don't expect to see him aging in the near future. He'll probably stay as far away from me as possible. And I'm fine with that. I really am. I don't need a guy; I had this perfect baby growing inside of me and that's all I need. Sam Evans is wanted, but not needed. I'm not going to die because he isn't here; I'm Quinn Fabray. I'm independent and I don't need anyone.

"So, are you just going to sit there and stare at the wall all day?" Santana asks impatiently, breaking the long silence with an aggravated sigh. I was actually surprised that she was able to hold off for that long; that wasn't like Santana.

"What do you want me to say?" I say, still not looking at them. Somehow I'm mad at them too; I don't know how or why, but I just am. I'll blame that on the pregnancy hormones later.

"Say something, anything," Brittany says; her tone annoyed and just as impatient as Santana's. I roll my eyes; I don't know what to say. What are you supposed to say in a situation like this? I had too many questions to ponder on, to talk to them now. Hold on, I had questions. Questions that they had the answers to. Why hadn't I thought about that before? Oh well, I'm going to use it now.

"How about you guys tell me everything you know about this," I say coldly, with my HBIC look. That always got me what I wanted, I didn't like using it after high school, but what the hell. They were familiar with this look.

"We don't know much Quinn," Santana sighs, I cross my arms, they were telling me. There's no way they were getting out of this.

"I want to know what you know," I say, pressing on, not taking anything back. I was not letting this go.

They both sigh, a giving up sigh, before exchanging a look, they sit up a little straighter and Brittany speaks, "Well, this is all off of what you told us Quinn," I nod and she continues, "You and Sam… met…again, in your boutique one day. He was there with his wife, Mallory, who's also our boss at the Times."

"So you guys knew about Sam and didn't tell me?" I say astonished that they would keep this from me…whenever it was.

Santana rolls her eyes and Brittany sighs, "we've been through this before. We didn't tell you because we knew you still loved Sam and would've been heartbroken to find out he was married," Santana explains, rather calmly, "which you were when you say him again." That sounds about right. I would've probably been heartbroken. I urge them to go on. "You and Sam did some catching up, talking about your lives and all that. And you, for lack of a better term, were jealous of Mallory." Wow, great job of preserving my pride, guys. I roll my eyes and stat eating my breakfast as they tell me the story; they're store-bought, pre-frozen, pancakes, but my hunger takes over.

"So, Mallory's our boss and apparently you came by our office one day and saw her and Nate, an intern at the Times, talking… about how she was pregnant with his baby," Brittany explains and I listen intently. So, I knew that his wife was cheating; did I tell him? Well, now I feel like a home wrecker. But I did the right thing…right? I drown my guilt in my pancakes which are drowned in maple syrup. Sugar always helps fight the guilt.

"And I told Sam?" I ask, because there's something inside of me that makes me think that I didn't tell him. I finish my pancakes and gulp down my orange juice, before pushing the revolving table to the side after I had finished.

"Not exactly," Santana says, "you kind of kept it to yourself for a while." Maybe that's why I had that odd feeling. I didn't think I'd do something like that. This story reminds me of that that had taken place in my sophomore year of high school when I was pregnant with Beth. I was Rachel, Sam was Finn, Mallory was me, and this Nate guy was Puck; that seems about right, although it doesn't feel right to compare Sam to Finn or me to Rachel Berry…eww.

"Then what happened?" I ask anxiously, really wanting to know what I did next. This was almost like a soup opera; so much drama.

"Well, San and I, along with Mallory, had to go to Milan to cover Fashion Week there," Brittany says, I can almost feel where this story's going next. The wife is gone, leaving the husband and the tramp alone in the city. Yep, I knew where this story was going.

"And so, we don't really know what happened next, but you told that you and Sam kind of hung out, you know as friends and stuff and then one day you two kissed," Santana says, somewhat patronizingly. That's Santana for you; just a little judgmental. So he was still married. When 'it' happened. I was a home wrecker; and a slut, and a tramp, and whore. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not better than that tattooed freak that had an affair with my dad back in high school.

"But nothing happened, at that time at least," Brittany says noticing my self-imploding expression. That didn't really help me feel better; that just meant it happened while Sam was still married, just not at that moment. "You said that he immediately put a top to it and said he couldn't do this because he was married and all that stuff," Brittany continues. Oh God, I better not have chased after him. That was so not me; I don't think that happened either. I decide not to ask questions that were sure to be answered soon and just listen to the rest of their story. I nod, influencing them to go on.

"Ok, then nothing really happened, you didn't chase after him or anything, so kudos to you," Santana says giving me two thumbs up, which causes me to chuckle, "then somehow, you guys got really close, you didn't tell us how, and um then…he showed up to your house one night and told you he loved you." Santana got this grossed out look to her face and so did Brittany, but at least she tries to cover it up. So he loved me. My heart was soaring right now. He had loved me; I feel contempt with this cruel world.

"So, I take it, this is when we had sex," I say and Brittany nods. Oh Lord, I was a home wrecker; all those all those other things too. I feel horrible right now.

"Oh did you ever," Santana says scornfully, "the way you described it; you two were like to rabbits, always going after each other." Santana scrunches up her nose in disgust and shakes her; I blush. That's what happens in love I guess.

"So, then Sam found out that Mallory was pregnant and he thought it was his, so he told you that he couldn't do this anymore because he couldn't leave his baby for you or something," Brittany says looking sympathetic, and Santana apologetic. Wow, that was a dick move if I do say so myself. That does not sound like the Sam Evans I knew. The Sam Evans I knew would never do something like that. He wouldn't just put it all behind him and pretend it never happened. But this Sam was different.

"So…so, he just… left?" I ask, to say I was surprised would be an understatement. And why did I have an odd feeling of discomfort in my heart? I try to brush that away; it didn't mean anything.

"Well, you told him the truth about Mallory, but Sam… um he…wouldn't believe you," Santana says somewhat hesitantly. Talk about an asshole; I'm fuming right now. How dare he? Who did he think he was? I guess loving me was a false statement if there ever was. He was just tired of his wife and wanted something new; and me being vulnerable and naïve let him take advantage of me. I guess I can't really blame him for it; what guy wouldn't take advantage of me in a situation like that. I just thought Sam was never like any of those other guys; I just thought he was different.

"And what about this baby?" I ask pointing to my stomach and trying not to show any signs of anger or sadness, he didn't deserve my time, "what did he say when I told him about it?"

Santana and Brittany look at each other nervously, "well, you didn't really tell him about it," Brittany says looking at me shamefully. Well, did that ever put things back on me. Now this was my fault; I was the one being wrong here. So I guess I'm to blame for all of this too…but it's his fault more than mine.

"What do you mean I didn't tell him?" I ask, really asking why I didn't tell him. There had to be a reason behind it, and right now I don't even know where my intentions were.

"You said that it wouldn't have made a difference," Santana says bleakly, "you said that he still would've picked Mallory over you." That makes sense; I guess my intentions were pretty normal. Maybe I felt like he didn't deserve to know about this baby; he didn't. But that takes away my right to be mad at him for not telling me that he was the father of my baby, maybe he never knew.

"So, he doesn't know that he's the father of the baby?" I ask expecting them to shake their head no but when they don't I'm very surprised.

"Oh, he knows," Santana says laughing half-heartedly, "why do you think he went through so much to save both you and the baby?" That's when I understand Sam's true motives behind all of this. I was right; he just wanted us to be even. Well, we were now. I hope he's happy because I'm sure not. He saved the baby so that he could get off the hook; so he wasn't the bad guy anymore, well that's not how I see it. He never even cared about me. And why would he? Who would want to deal with me? I know I wouldn't want to. You know that something's really messed up when you don't even want to deal with yourself.

"Well, then," I say trying to keep my emotions at bay, "I ought to remember all of this soon." Santana and Brittany are studying my face intently, searching for some sign of… any emotion, really. But they weren't going to find any; I went through my entire life trying to hide my feeling and emotions from everyone else; I knew a thing or two about how to put on a façade.

"Quinn…are you okay?" Brittany asks after a while of not finding anything in my blank face. I nod; I'm okay. Okay's a very vague term, and I doubt I'd really be lying if I said I was okay. I was okay.

Santana and Brittany look skeptical but they don't have time to further question me because the door all of a sudden opens and Sam Evans enters.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

I hesitantly open the door to room 387; letting my eyes settle to the woman on the bed. Her face is unreadable, and it gets more so after she sees me…odd. Santana and Brittany are sitting beside her bed, looking slightly uneasy. I give a small smile to Quinn. She looks troubled by something; all my confidence in talking to her flies out the window in a hurry.

"Uh, hey guys," I say stepping inside the room; letting the door close behind me. Brittany smiles politely but Santana still has that perturbed look to her face. What had happened? Quinn is looking at me in a strange way; I can't read her face at all. I can usually tell what she's thinking or what she's feeling but now I can't even tell what emotion is on her face.

"Hey Sam," Brittany says, her voice unsure and her face worried, as she looks over at Quinn. Quinn is looking at me, I study her face carefully, trying to find out what she's thinking; she's looking like she doesn't know what to say. Like she wants to say something but doesn't know where to start; that's how well I know her, I can tell things like this…unless, none of that was true and she was just looking at me normally and I was totally wrong about all of this.

"I just came by to check on Quinn," I lie, after a period of awkward silence. I have no idea why I came in here. What had I expected to say to her once I did? I didn't know for sure. I just needed to see her, that's basically it. I didn't know what to say to her at all. Maybe it's best if I should just leave. "So…um… looks like she's fine," I say giving a small chuckle, which Santana mockingly nods, "I'll…just leave you guys to it then." I'm already opening the door before I finish my sentence; I'm about to leave when a voice bring me back.

"Uh…actually, Brittany and I were just leaving," Santana says, her voice oddly high "we have to go to work, and if you don't have anything to do, you can keep Quinn company." Quinn is giving her a confused glare and that makes my stomach turn uncomfortably.

"Um…yeah, sure," I say nervously. What else was I supposed to say? I guess I could lie and say I had to see a patient or something, but my heart couldn't give up this opportunity to talk to Quinn, even though it seems like she doesn't really want to talk to me.

"Great. Come on Brit, we have to get to work," Santana says pleasantly, which is highly fishy, looking at Brittany who is still seated.

"What? No we don't," Brittany says looking at Santana questioningly and Santana glares at her; never thought I'd see Santana glare at Brittany.

"Yes, we do," Santana says to Brittany sternly, which causes Brittany to immediately stand up; Santana looks over at Quinn and puts her smile back on, "we'll see you later, Quinn." She takes Brittany's hand and they both walk over to the door, where I'm standing. "Later, Sam," Santana says looking at me with slight…guilt? Brittany's doing to same; that's weird. They walk out the door, shutting it on their way out.

I watch them go. That was odd. Why were they acting like that? I swear they looked at me guiltily; what was going on? Oh God, what if Quinn knew about…well everything. I am going to be in so much trouble; it's not even funny. Maybe she got her memory back, that would be better than if Santana and Brittany had just told her; it sounds a lot worse than it actually was, if Quinn had her memory back, I would somewhat be spared…right? I take a deep breathe, I should stop jumping to conclusions and just know for sure. I hesitantly turn around and smile at Quinn; she is looking at me with an intensity and emotion that I can't name. It's almost like sadness; that's not good.

"So, how're you doing?" I say walking over to Quinn and sitting in the seat that was previously occupied by Brittany.

"I'm fine," Quinn says expressionlessly, not meeting my eyes. I shift in my seat uncomfortably; I was really starting to get worried. She isn't usually like this.

"Okay…cool," I say giving a small half-hearted chuckle. We sit there in silence for a few moments before I can't take it anymore; the awkward silence is getting to me. I take a deep breath and replace the silence with my voice.

"So, it seems that your healing pretty well," I say trying to strike a conversation with Quinn but she just gives a short nod without looking at me. I hold back the urge to sigh; this was going to be harder than I thought. "You might even get released soon, I bet you hate it here," I say, getting another nod in reply. Why is she being like this? As far as I know I haven't done anything. What the hell am I saying, I'm the reason she's in this God damned hospital. It's probably the pregnancy hormones or something.

"Look Quinn, I don't know what I did, but whatever it is, I'm sorry," I say getting right to the point, hoping she'll get the message that I know that something's up. Hopefully it's nothing, but the way she's acting, it doesn't seem like nothing.

"Oh you know well what you did Sam Evans," Quinn says crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking forward.

"No, I don't," I say slightly annoyed. Was she always this difficult? What did she mean I knew what she was talking about? She couldn't possibly know about the baby. I doubt she had her memory back; if she did, she wouldn't be like this; she'd be a little more understanding, and not so difficult.

Quinn rolls her eyes and sighs, turning her head to look at me, "I know Sam, okay. I know and you can't blame me if I'm mad about it," she says calmly, I almost fall over when she says so. She knows? Like, she knows about the baby? About everything? Oh Lord, this was not good. Not good at all. I feel myself breathing deeper and feeling slightly dizzy. My head was going through a million different thoughts; I was in the dog house now.

"Know what?" I ask, trying to play the idiot. I was going to make her tell me what she knows, not just assume that she knows what I think she knows.

Quinn rolls her eyes again, "Everything Sam," she says in an aggravated tone, "about the baby, about what happened between us, everything." Yep, suspicion confirmed. Did I really think it was going to be anything else? Santana and Brittany probably told her everything. I always knew that they were going to ruin this. I was so screwed. I try to find the right words to say; but nothing will come. What are you supposed to say in a situation like this? I sigh; there was no point in thinking about this, the damage is already done.

"Listen, Quinn; before you jump to conclusions, I think you should know the whole story," I say straight from the heart; not trying to say the right thing, but saying the thing I want to say.

"The whole story? I know the whole story, Sam. I know, and I'm not mad, I'm not upset," she says looking at me, I give her a confused look, "we're even, you saved the baby so you no longer owe me anything anymore, I get it." What is she saying? What does she mean we're even?

"What do you mean, 'we're even'?" I ask, completely confused. I really had no idea what she was talking about.

"Look Sam, I really don't want to talk to you right know," Quinn says, not looking at me, "can you please just leave." If she thought I was going to do that, she was crazy.

"No," I say plainly, "I'm not leaving until you tell me what you're talking about." Quinn rolls her eyes and gives an exasperated sigh.

"You don't have to feel bad about leaving me Sam, you saved my baby and I thank you for that, you're no longer in debt to me, we're even," Quinn explains and somehow I understand that time. Is that really what she thought? I couldn't believe this; who had gave her that idea? Santana and Brittany? Why would she think like that? There is no doubt that I would've saved the baby under any circumstances, even if it wasn't mine. I didn't do this because I felt like I was in debt to her; I never meant for any of this to happen. When will she get it?

"Quinn, you don't understand," I say trying to take her hands in mine but she snatches them away, "Quinn, please just hear me out. It's not what you think."

"Then what is it Sam?" she says looking at me and that's when I see the tears that have formed in her eyes. I want to kick myself for making her cry. I need to fix this.

"Quinn, I didn't save the baby because I felt in debt to you; there is nothing I could do Quinn that could fix what I did to you, but Quinn what happened between us can't be understood by a retelling," I say, my eyes boring into hers, "I'm assuming Santana and Brittany told you what happened, because you don't seem to be understanding what we had and still have. Quinn once you have your memory back you'll then understand."

Quinn looks at me for a while before turning her body to face mine in the bed, "if no one but us can understand what happened between us, why don't you tell me what happened," she says challengingly.

"You won't understand unless you have your memory back Quinn, trust me," I say, and then immediately realize that those weren't the right words to use. Why would she want to trust me? After everything I've done?

"I always thought you were different from the other guys," she says shaking her head, "I thought you actually wanted me. But I was just stupid"

"Quinn, please, no you're not, I do want you," I say pleadingly, "I love you." Quinn scoffs and I know she doesn't believe a word I say.

Quinn sighs, "can you just go Sam, please?" she says leaning back onto the pillows of the reclined bed and closing her eyes. I don't know what good will come from me staying here any longer, so reluctantly, I oblige. I stand up and walk over to the door, turning around one last time to see her in the same position I last saw and walk out the door. Hoping for a miracle.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

After Sam left I just sat there for a while, thinking of what he had said. "_You won't understand until you have your memory back." _What did that mean? Was he just trying to save himself or was he actually speaking the truth. Was he right about me misunderstanding? This was confusing. I didn't know what to feel right now; all I knew is that I didn't feel so great.

Was I too hard on him? Didn't he deserve it? Wasn't he the reason that I was still alive? Shouldn't I be at least a little more thankful? Well makes me feel like a bitch. I was never good at making myself feel better. The way he had looked when I told him to leave was evidence enough that he had felt bad; he had looked so hurt, so…broken. It pained me to see him like that. It really did; maybe I had blown the one chance I had to be with Sam Evans. But then again, did I deserve that chance? More so, did he deserve the chance?

No. He didn't. He didn't deserve to have me. He played me for his own benefit; he never wanted me, he just wanted a change from his wife for a while. I doubt I'll feel any differently about this even after I have my memory back. How much differently could I have felt back then, to not feel the way that I feel now? I feel so…used. Unwanted, unloved, and unneeded. Hadn't I always been that? If so, why did I feel so much worse now than I did before? What had changed? Sam Evans had come into the picture, that's what had changed.

I felt like everything I did, was dictated by him, on no fault of his own. I remember Puck proposing to me during college, when he did it, I wasn't thinking about him but I was thinking about the one man that I hadn't seen in years, Sam Evans. That's what made me say no; I could've had a nice, rounded relationship if it hadn't been for him. Sometimes I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me; I kept holding onto this hope all throughout senior year of high school, and all through college that he'd come back to me, come back to me and sweep me off my feet on his white horse, like some pathetic fairytale. Well, there's something that I should've learned a decade ago, fairytales are not reality. And neither is the perfect relationship I thought I would have with Sam.

I don't know how long I sat there thinking, but somewhere in that long thought process I had started crying silently. A light knock on my door made my insides jump with anxiety. I quickly wipe away my tears and take a deep breathe before saying, "Come in." The door opens slowly and at first I think that it's Sam, I'm ready to tell him to fuck off and leave when a tall, dark haired man with a white lab coat, who I knew as Dr. Braden Michaels, came through the threshold. I hold back a sigh of relief, as I see Braden; I just didn't want to deal with Sam right now. Yeah, that was it, I didn't feel anything for Braden or anything; I didn't even know the guy! God, Quinn, what the hell is wrong with you?

"Hello Quinn," Braden says walking towards my bed after the door automatically shut behind him, making me feel slightly nervous. "I just came back to give you some new medication because the old ones seem to not have been working so well and are gone." I look to my IV supplement and sure enough the bag is empty.

"Yeah, okay," I say and Braden gives me a small smile before walking beside my bed to the IV stand and attaching a new bag to the IV after throwing the old one in the garbage can. This bag looks different from the others, I note, the liquid was also a different color; almost bluish instead or clear. I look from the bag to Braden with a confused look on my face.

"This is Neotropin; it ought to help bring your memory back," Braden says adjusting the bag so that the liquid can flow to my wrist. I don't think much of it when he tells me about the Neotropin. I did really want to get my memory back. My brain feels oddly relaxed as the medicine gushes into my body. It feels really good; my throbbing head has finally calmed down. I close my eyes and lean back against the reclined pillows of the bed, sighing in contentment.

"Good huh?" Braden asks, with a smile in his voice. I nod without opening my eyes.

"It's great," I say finally opening them to see Braden standing on the right side of my bed with a smile and a somewhat unreadable look on his face.

"I thought it would make you feel better," he says pulling a chair over to him and sitting down beside my bed. "So, Quinn, I see you're doing better with time," he says making himself comfortable in the chair, "your ribs should heal in no time and you'll be out of here before you know it." I smile at that; I don't know why, I just did.

"That's fantastic," I say laughing nervously, trying to sound like I hadn't been crying a few minutes ago, "the hospital food isn't really serving me well." Braden laughs at my statement.

"I thought about that so I had some real food brought to you," he says texting someone really quickly on his phone, "have you ever had food from The Courier? It's the best place to go to for lunch; I eat from there all the time." I shake my head no. I know what The Courier is. It's one of the most famous lunch restaurants in Los Angeles; and with fame comes expense, maybe that's why I'd never been there before. There were two types of regular people in Los Angeles, the rich and the not so rich. I fell in the not so rich category; Sam and assumedly Braden fell into the rich one.

Just then a nurse walks through the door, rolling a food cart with two trays of food on them. Presumably one for me, and one for Braden. I look at the food on the tray; they're wrapped up with tinfoil and plastic wrap, but that doesn't contain their smell and that's when I realize how hungry I had been. I really haven't taste real food in a long time; the aroma coming from the cart smelled so good that I could feel my mouth start to water. The nurse puts the cart beside my bed and looks at Braden who nods, she then walks away without another word; it was almost as if she was compelled or something, she looked like she wanted to say something, but she said nothing.

"Here we are," Braden says standing up after the nurse left and walking over to the cart. He lifted a tray and set in on the revolving table beside my bed, before sliding it in front of me. I looked at the tray in front of me and then to Braden. Why was he being so… nice? I had never had any guy be this nice to me if he didn't want something in return. I looked from the tray of food to Braden who was smiling down at me. Just then a felt a familiar aching in my chest; he did want something… Maybe Brittany and Santana were right about him 'liking' me, but that wasn't the question here, the question was how I felt about him.

"Uh…I… thank you Braden," I say looking at the food and then to him. He's looking at me as if he wants me to say more but I really don't know what else to say.

Braden seemed like a decent guy. Don't get me wrong, he sounded like a total asshole at first, but the more I spent time with him, the more of a good guy he presented himself to be. He was handsome, not like Sam handsome, but he still was desirable; good form, pretty eyes, nice smile, but they couldn't compete against Sam's…there I go again! Comparing every guy I've ever thought to be worth something to Sam. It's like he had this hold over me that I couldn't get rid of. Ugh! It was like he was haunting me; his voice, his smell, his face… everything.

"Well, um…I hope you enjoy your meal Quinn," Braden says breaking the somewhat long silence between us, "I'll just leave you to it then." He walks over to the cart and starts wheeling it towards the door. I watch him do so; why can't I open myself up to any guy that likes me? I mean why would this guy even want me? I was pregnant with some other man's baby; a man that he didn't seem to like very much to top it all off. Why?

More importantly, what was I so afraid of? If he wanted me, shouldn't I at least be a little flattered? Why is it that I keep thinking about Sam and what he would say if he were here? Sam would want me to be happy…right? What was the harm of spending some time with a nice guy? There was no harm. Then why couldn't I make myself to do anything about it? Sam Evans didn't want me; so why did I still feel like I owed him? I didn't. And I wasn't going to hold off for him anymore.

"Wait, Braden!" I call just as Braden is about to walk out of the door. Braden turns around and looks at me confusedly, I just smile, it was nice to feel wanted. "Would you want to eat lunch with me? I could really use the company," I say with a coy smile on my face, Braden doesn't do anything at first, probably in shock or something, but then his face breaks out into a smile and he nods.

"I'd like that," he says rolling the cart back over inside the room and picking up his tray, placing it on a table to the left of my bed and sitting in the chair that was previously occupied by…Sam. I swallow hard and put a smile on my face. Sam Evans was no longer going to hold me back. I vowed to forget about him, to not think about him anymore; sure it was going to be hard, but I had done hard things before and if anyone could get over heartbreak, it's me. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger…doesn't it? The problem was that his baby was currently growing inside of me; every time I'll see my baby, I'll see Sam.

"Alright," I say unwrapping the sandwich from the tinfoil and setting it on the plate, staring at the size of it. To say it was huge would be an understatement. It was enormous; packed with everything you should ever put in a sandwich: bacon, ham, turkey, chicken, steak, probably every type of meat known to man, even some fish, with olives, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, peppers, apples (yes, apples), and don't even get me started on the cheeses, there was Swiss, cheddar, mozzarella, American, blue smoke, and many other cheeses that I had no idea what they were called, and it was drenched in dressing; all of this was layered on to colossal pieces of sub bread. Just looking at it made me full; I continue to stare at it…it was just so big. Probably fat loaded too, but who cares, I was going be huge in a few months anyways, so what was the hard in getting an early start?

I hear Braden laugh at my reaction to the size of the sandwich, "big huh?" he asks laughing, unwrapping his on mammoth sized sandwich.

"Uh…yeah," I say looking over at him, my eyes still wide, "how is anyone supposed to eat this?"

"Oh lots of people have ate this," he says smiling, "now tell me how long have you lived in Los Angeles?"

I was sort of taken aback by his question but nevertheless answered, "I went to college here, so for about 6, 7 years," Braden's shocked expression makes me smile, "what?"

"You've lived here 7 years and you haven't had a Courier megawich?" he asks clearly stunned. I just shake my head no and he gives a small chuckle. "Wow, well we're about to change that, because you Quinn Fabray are about to have your first Courier megawich," he says it like it's a life altering experience.

"You say that like it's so important," I say laughing and looking down at my 'megawich.'

"Oh, it is," he says, "you're are not considered a Los Angelesian until you've tried a megawich," he says like I didn't get the most obvious thing in the world.

"Okay," I say challengingly, "if I can take a bite of it, we'll see how great this 'megawich' really is." I pick up the sandwich using every inch of my hands and bring it to my lips; I look over at Braden who is watching me intently for my reaction and open my mouth as wide as it'll open, taking a bit of the ginormous sandwich.

It's not bad, pretty good actually…okay, it was really good; but in the process of trying my first megawich, I had gotten mustard, ketchup, ranch, mayonnaise, and some other types of dressings all over my face. Coating my mouth, my chin, and my nose. Braden burst out laughing as I chewed and swallowed my bite.

"Not bad for a first timer," he says still laughing, I glare at him playfully.

"Shut up," I say reaching for my napkin and trying to wipe off my face, but I don't really think its working.

"You're making it worse," Braden says laughingly, picking up his own napkin and helping me wipe of my face. After a while, I just stop trying and let him wipe off all of it, since I'm obviously not really helping. I can't help but think how easy it is to talk to him; how easy it is to laugh with him, I don't have to worry about letting my guard down or anything. It felt…good.

"There," Braden says after finishing cleaning my face, he looks at me and then realizes that I was staring at him while he was doing so; but he doesn't make anything of it, which I thank God for because if he mentioned it, I would've died from embarrassment. He just puts his napkin down and picks up his megawich with both his hands, but a hell of a lot more orthodoxed than my try, and takes a bite; managing to not get anything on his face.

I watch in amazement as he chews and swallows his bite, "and that," Braden says finishing swallowing, "is how you properly eat a megawich." I smile at him; he was making me forget. Making me forget how screwed up my life was, making me forget that I was currently in a hospital, making me forget that I had memory loss, making me forget Sam…

"Wow, it's almost 3 o'clock," I say the giggle from the last thing Braden had said still on my lips. He had come by around noon and it had almost been 3 hours since. Our lunch was long gone; in the garbage can hours ago. I couldn't believe how long it had been; it felt like it was no time at all. All throughout those few hours, I hadn't once thought about Sam; all I thought about was what Braden was saying or doing at that particular time.

I had learned a lot about Braden over the past few hours; Braden Eduardo Michaels was son of very successful business man, John Michaels, He had been born and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina, characterized himself as a city boy, with a southern spirit. His favorite movie was The Godfather, the original not the remake. He had said that "the sequel is never as good as the original." He was a huge Harry Potter, and Prince fan. He loved to play tennis and was very good golfer. He loved Adele, and was afraid to sing in front of people because he was "terrible." He was an only child so after his parents died last summer, he inherited the entire family estate and fortune. He had never been in love, stating that he hadn't "met the right one yet." He was a huge baseball fan, but never played it. He went to Duke University and moved to Los Angeles right after he graduated and got a job here a few months later. He lived by Venice beach in a beach house because he loved the beach. And he had a chocolate lab named Coco.

I felt like I had known him my entire life; he was so open and honest about his life that it made me too. I told him about everything, my parents, Lucy Caboosy, Beth, Glee Club, USC, designing, Santana and Brittany, even Sam; although I left out the part about what I knew had happened between us recently. Not once had he been judgmental, he just smiled his way through everything I had said.

Braden looks at his watch and nods, "yeah, time flies, huh?" he says standing up, "I probably should get going now; I stayed way past my lunch break."

I laugh, "well, I hope I didn't get you into any trouble," I say pretending to feel bad.

Braden laughs too, "I'll survive," he says smiling at me, "It was really fun talking to you Quinn." I nod and realize how true his words had been, it was fun.

"Yeah, it was," I say returning the smile.

Braden picks up my hand and kisses it, taking me by surprise, "I'll see you later Quinn," he says after dropping my hand, "have a good rest of the day."

I don't know what to say, "Um…yeah, you too," I say. Braden smiles and pushed the cart out of the room, exiting with it.

I sit there for a while after he left; staring at the hand he had just kissed. I smile to myself. Today hadn't been such a bad day after all. Maybe, just maybe, I was starting to 'like' Braden Michaels.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

Over the next several hours, I indulge myself in work; I work on other doctor's patients, I see patients without appointments, something I never do, and I even help the med students research methods to stop reduce the happening of frequent heart disease; and I hate research. I don't even eat lunch or dinner; don't even think about it. I can't eat anything right now, I feel sick to my stomach and I doubt food will help that.

I try, the hardest I've ever tried, to not think about Quinn. Isn't that the reason I've been working like a maniac. I know if I think about her, I will end up having a nervous break down and that I something else I can't deal with right now. I was mad at everything and everyone, except Quinn. I was mad at myself for being such an asshole, I was mad at Finn for kissing Quinn during high school, I was mad at Mallory for lying to me about her pregnancy, I was mad at Nate for ruining my marriage, I was mad at the driver who had hit Quinn to have made her lose her memory, I was mad at Braden for wanting Quinn, I was mad at Santana and Brittany for telling Quinn about what happened between us, I was mad at God for putting me through this. So basically I was mad at everything and everyone.

"Dr. Evans. Dr. Evans!" Sally tries to get my attention as I'm madly mixing different medications in order to be making…well, I forgot what I was trying to make.

"Huh? What?" I say almost rudely, which takes Sally and me by surprise, I'm never rude.

Sally takes a deep breath, "Dr. Evans, it's almost 9 o'clock," she states, "I think you should go home now; it would be good for you to get some rest." She says this almost sternly. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. She was right; I needed to get out of here. Staying here won't do me any good; if I wanted to get my mind off of Quinn, I had to go home and get some rest.

I take a deep breath, "you're right," I tell Sally, sighing, "I should go." Sally nods and walks behind me to my office, making sure that I am actually leaving. I hang my lab coat on my door and walk out of my office, heading for the elevators. I make it down to my car but I don't start my engine. I just sit in my car for a while. Where am I supposed to go? Home? I don't have a home anymore. That apartment is not a home. I can't go there. Going there will only make me realize how screwed up my life really is.

Instead I fish my phone out of my pocket and speed dial the only friend that I can turn to, Ryan. I wait for him to answer and surely enough after a few rings he answers. "Yo, man, what's up?" he asks, I can hear commotion in the background, he's probably at a bar or strip club or something, a typical place for Ryan to be.

"Ryan, I need to take my mind off of something," I say honestly.

"Oh, Sammy boy, you came to the right guy," Ryan says laughing, "I'm at The Strip, you should come join me and we can totally help you forget." The Strip is a local Los Angeles bar and one of Ryan's many often visited bars. I hear a couple of girl giggling in the background and glasses clinking together; typical bar sounds.

"Alright man," I say, without even really thinking about it, starting my engine, "I'm on my way." With that I hang up the phone and start driving to The Strip as fast as I can, getting drunk will help me get my mind off of things. I don't like to use that method, but it's really all I got right now. It'll help me get off of Quinn and that's really all I want right now.

I get to the bar in no time and am out of my car as soon as I park in the parking lot; all while knowing that I'm probably going to have to have to take a cab home tonight. I walk to the door of the bar and open it, walking inside; smelling alcohol, perfume, and…sex. I sigh before stepping inside; it didn't take me long before spotting Ryan sitting by the bar, a couple of girls all over him. Against my better judgment, I enter the loud, crowded pub and walk over to Ryan. Loud music hits my ears and I maneuver my way between the people dancing towards my friend.

"Sammy boy! You made it," he says sitting up and shooing the girls away, "sit, sit." He gestures towards a bar stool beside him and I sit down putting my hands on the table. "Hey can we get the man a drink here?" Ryan calls the bartender, a young woman with short red hair, comes over.

"What can I get you sir?" she asks me flirtatiously, I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"The strongest shot you have," I say watching the bartender smile and Ryan look surprised.

"Make that two shots babe," Ryan says to the bartender before punching me playfully on the arm, "adventurous are we today Sam?"

"I just want to get my mind off of everything," I say in a bored tone. The bartender leaves to go get our drinks and Ryan turns to me.

"What's going on in that blonde head of yours Sam?" he asks curiously, "it's not like you to be trying to get wasted, even if it is a Friday night."

I just shake my head, "it's along story man," I say not wanting to bore him with my life story.

"I got time," Ryan says as the bartender puts two shots in front of us, "keep em' coming babe." He says to the bartender who nods.

I sigh and pick up my shot glass, "you know that girl Quinn, you met her at the pier that day," I say drowning my shot into my mouth, Ryan doing the same. I swallowed the liquid and it burns in my throat but I could care less.

"The really hot blonde, who ditched me after you two, went to talk privately?" Ryan asks and I nod, "what about her?"

"Well, she and I dated in high school and she was my first," I say as the bartender puts down a few more shots on the table in front of Ryan and me, "She was my first love and I hadn't really every gotten over her, and while Mallory was away, I realized that I was still in love with her." We drowned another shot.

"Whoa dude," Ryan says after swallowing his shot, "love's never a good thing. Go on." I laugh humorlessly.

"We were having an affair and I was ready to leave Mallory for her, I really was, but then Mallory showed up and claimed to be pregnant with my baby," I say bringing the shot glass to my lips and knocking it back, Ryan following my suit.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that man," he says and I shake my head.

"It's not your fault," I say and Ryan urges me to go on, "I just couldn't leave my baby for Quinn, you know, I just couldn't do it so I ended it. I didn't want to end it; I really loved her but I just couldn't abandon my baby. She was devastated and hated me."

"Wow, dude, that even makes you sound like an asshole," he says knocking another shot back.

"But she was pregnant at the time too, and she really with my baby, but she didn't even tell me." I say and Ryan's eyes go as wide a saucers and he almost chokes on his shot.

"Whoa, man," he says stunned, "what happened then?" I find it quite amusing how he's so interested on what happened next.

I knock back another shot before answering, "Well, she didn't tell me about the baby cause she probably felt like I didn't have the right to know, which I didn't," I say and Ryan nods in agreement, "then everything with Mallory went down and you know what happened there." I drown another shot, Ryan nods putting his finished shot glass on the table after knocking it back.

"Well, I didn't really talk to Quinn for a few weeks, I was just overwhelmed with everything that happened, but throughout it all I still loved Quinn and I really missed her, so I went to her apartment one day, but she wasn't there so left her a note saying I wanted to talk to her," I say nonchalantly, "and that night; she ended up on my surgery table after a bad car accident."

"Whoa man, this is like one of those soup operas," Ryan says blinking a few times, "all you need is someone having amnesia and you could be on a one way train to soup-ville." If I hadn't been in the mood I was in, I'd laugh, but instead I just glared at him and Ryan's eyes got super wide again. "Omigod, she has amnesia?" he asks shocked.

"Yeah, but we'll get to that later" I say knocking back another shot, "I did the surgery on her and as a miracle the baby, my baby, survived."

"Dude, you're a hero," Ryan says obviously really intrigued by this whole situation.

"Yeah, well, it was then I found out the baby was mine and the next morning I found out she had no memory of what happened between us whatsoever," I say indifferently, "but then her friends told her what happened and know she hates me because she doesn't fully understand cause she still doesn't have her memory back."

Ryan's eyes are wide and stunned, "wow man, I never knew your life was that screwed up," he says and I laugh grimly.

"I really love her man," I say knocking back another shot. How many was that so far? I've lost count.

"Well dude, there is only one way thing that can help you forget about Quinn," Ryan says after knocking back his shot, "you won't get over her because you can still picture her naked, the only way you can get over a girl is if you can no longer picture her naked. You need to replace the images in your brain with her boobs with new images of other women's boobs; and soon enough you'll forget about her because our brain's can only hold a certain number of boob images."

I just look at him, "that's disturbing," I say what's on my mind; I feel like I've heard his little monologue somewhere else before, "you know you totally sound like Barney off of _How I Met Your Mother_?" Yep, there's where I had heard that before.

"His is my idol, but not the guy who plays him, he's gay. Charlie Sheen's also my idol and the guy he used to play on _Two and A Half Men._" Ryan says and I hold back my urge to laugh, Ryan should be Barney and Charlie's idol. "Look at those two smoking brunettes over there," Ryan says pointing to two girls sitting on the other side of the bar, "look's like we're about to have you forget about Quinn." I roll my eyes; I was not sleeping with random girls to get over Quinn.

"Dude, I'm not doing that," I say firmly, watching Ryan roll his eyes, "she's the mother of my child, shouldn't I at least try to be with her." Ryan just shakes his head.

"Look man, you can still be part of the kid's life, but you can't be pining after her forever. This is the only way dude and I'm going to help you get over this girl," Ryan says to me, "now which one do you got?"

"Ryan, I don't think this is such a good idea," I say uneasily, looking over at the two girls.

"Oh, come on man, its full proof," Ryan says assertively, "now which one you got?" he asks again pointing to the two girls. I assessed them both carefully, they were in their mid-twenties, the one to the left was quintessentially gorgeous; she had light golden brown hair and pretty, soft brown eyes, her lips were a light shade of pink, she looked somewhat uncomfortable to be here. She was wearing a short dark blue dress that fit her curves perfectly, with her hair let down in soft curls. I didn't know why, but somehow, the girl intrigued me; I wanted to know more about her.

"The one to the left," I say to Ryan, if I have to pick one, I might as well pick the prettier one.

"Oooo, Sammy, good choice," Ryan says checking out the two girls, "knew you would pick the pretty one, oh, well, I'll take the other." I roll my eyes again; I hate the way he talks about girls, like they aren't even human beings. Ryan calls over the bartender, "hey babe, give those girls over there two margaritas on us." The bartender nods and walks away. I looked over at the two girls; yeah, they were hot but not like Quinn, they didn't have her beauty, no one did. Comparing them to Quinn wasn't right; wasn't I trying to forget her?

We continue to watch the two girls as the bartender walks up to them and sets two margaritas in front of them, before pointing to us, probably telling them they were from us. The two girls smiled and waved at us, Ryan smirked and drowned the last shot on the table.

"Come on, they're basically calling us over there," he says starting to walk toward the girls, I sigh and knock back my last shot and follow him. My head is spinning right now, I knew I was drunk; those shots had been pretty strong. I was fully intoxicated; I just hoped I didn't do anything too stupid.

"Hey ladies," Ryan says as we walk up to the two girls, "the name's Ryan and this here is my friend Sam." The dark haired girl giggles and takes Ryan's hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you guys," she says flirtatiously, "my name's Natasha, and this is my friend Ashley." Ashley smiles softly at me and I smile back, she really is beautiful.

"So, you guys come here often?" Ryan asks trying to make small talk.

"Well, I do," Natasha says, before looking at Ashley, "but Ash here doesn't really come to these type of things." I nod, well, neither did I.

"Well, Sam here doesn't either," Ryan says turning around and smiling at me, "so what do you say Natasha, let's leave these newbies alone, shall we?" Ryan asks taking initiative right away, Natasha smiles and takes Ryan's out stretched hand.

"I'd love to," she says seductively, following Ryan towards the dance floor, leaving me and Ashley alone. Ashley smiles and my shyly and I sit down on the stool beside her.

"So, um… I'm Sam," I say nervously. Well, duh idiot, you're Sam. She knows that already.

"And, I'm Ashley," she says giggling softly; I smile, she was trying to make this easy on me.

"You don't come here often?" I ask, like Ryan, trying to make small talk.

"Coming to bars aren't really my thing," she says looking around the place, "Natasha dragged me out here tonight saying I needed to have some fun; she claims I work too much."

"Really? What do you do?" I ask curiously; this girl really did intrigue me, there was just something in those pretty eyes of hers.

"I'm the head chef at _Valentino_," Ashley says proudly. I look at her in surprise; _Valentino…_ me and Quinn had gone to dinner there… Snap out of it Sam! you're supposed to be trying to forget about her.

"No way," I say to Ashley, "I love _Valentino_, it's one of my favorite restaurants. You make the best food."

Ashley laughs, "thank you Sam," she says sweetly, looking over towards the dance floor where Ryan and Natasha were grinding up against one another, before back to me, "so what about you?"

"I'm a doctor at the UCLA Medical Center," I say just as proudly as she had said hers; if there's anything I'm proud of in my life, it's my job.

"Wow, a doctor," Ashley says surprised, "that's really sexy." She says this so nonchalantly that it causes me to laugh.

"I'd like to think so," I say still laughing, "the whole chef thing is pretty hot too." I feel wrong flirting with Ashley, I was having a baby with another woman, maybe this wasn't the best idea in the world. But the alcohol that clouded my mind didn't receive that thought. Anyways, what was the harm with flirting with a pretty girl?

Ashley smiles and starts watching as Ryan and Natasha make out in the middle of the dance floor. I clear my through unconsciously, time to take initiative Sam. "So, um… you want to dance?" I ask standing up and offering Ashley my hand. Ashley looks at my hand and flutters her eyes up to me softly, before smiling and nodding.

"Sure," she says taking my hand, I smile and lead her to the dance floor away from Ryan and Natasha because I really didn't want to deal with them right now. We turn around to face one another; Ashley puts her hand on my shoulder and I put one hand on the small of her back. We sway to the slow song together, slowly and peacefully. I didn't know how or when it happened, but all of a sudden our faces were really close together and we were leaning down ever so closely. It was probably due to the amount of alcohol that I had in my system or that I was just lonely and was missing Quinn especially now, but I think I was the one who had kissed Ashley first.

Heat and hunger grew in the kiss and before I knew what I was doing, I was asking Ashley, "let's get out of here." She just nods and takes my hand, leading me out of the door and into a taxi cab, since we both seem to have been intoxicated. We end up making out outside of my loft and before I can process what I'm about to do, and the consequences of my decision; we stumble into my bedroom and fall back on my bed.

Never once do I think about how much I'm going to regret this in the morning, or how wrong this is; I just let what is about to happen, happen, not thinking about Quinn once.

**Don't worry, Fabrevans will be endgame. So, you guys hate Braden, how about Ashley. I happen to really like Ashley; she brings more drama, which I love. There has to be mistakes on the way to every good love story right?**

**So tell me what you guys thought. Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think.**

**R&R**


	18. The End?

**I know, I know; I basically abandoned this story for a while, but it is back and on full swing now. February is the busiest month of the year for me, so I really didn't have a chance to write, but here is the next chapter of this story. I am sorry for not updating in like forever; I know how much I hate when writers just abandon stories without finishing them, and even though this story is nowhere near being complete, I still am upset that I didn't update in so long. Without further ado, here's the next chapter. :) **

Three weeks later

Sam's POV

I smile as I walk into my office today. I don't know why, I just do; maybe because I'm happy. When was the last time I was actually happy? A long time ago, for sure.

These past three weeks have been good to me. I had adjusted to living in my loft and living alone. I hadn't really spoken to Quinn since that day that she told me that she knew what happened between us; I was still in charge of treating her broken ribs, so I saw her every now and then, but I never said anything other than what I should say. Quinn didn't seem to mind, and that bothered me at first, but I later realized that it didn't matter anymore, things weren't going to change. I had lost hope.

She was holding her stomach the last time I saw her, absentmindedly as I wrote down her condition on my clipboard but nevertheless, it did put a lump in my throat, but like every other emotion, I dusted that one under the rug. What did confuse me was that she still didn't seem to have her memory back; if she did, she wouldn't be acting so cold towards me…well, I don't think she would.

It had been three weeks; she was supposed to have her memory back. I was slightly skeptical, I had made sure that I checked her MRIs and brain trauma reports, but found nothing wrong. Actually nothing was changing; at first I was dead set in finding out what the hell was going on, but as time went one, like everything else, I let it go. There had to be a time when you let go; when you moved on, and it was about time I had. Quinn certainly had.

I smile as I feel my phone buzz in my pocket; I already know who it is. It was a text from Ashley. I sit down in my chair and read it, a smile still on my face. After that one drunken night, we both admitted that we shouldn't have done what we did and, I don't really know how it happened, but we became really good friends. Odd, I know; but turns out Ashley's really easy to talk to, she's great, really. I like being around her, she always has this happy personality to her and that is really what I needed then; and what I need now. We became best friends faster than I expected; I just always found myself around her, and when I wasn't, I wanted to be. She didn't know about Quinn yet, I know I should tell her by now, but I just felt…I don't know…embarrassed? Scared of her reaction? Probably. I was going to tell her sometime…I just didn't know when yet.

It wasn't until two nights ago that I finally made a move. We were at my loft, watching a movie when I asked her if she wanted to go out with me Friday night. I had been meaning to ask her for a long time; but I just didn't have the guts to do it. At first our relationship started out totally platonic, but as time went on, I found myself noticing little things that I didn't notice before. Like the way she would lean her head against my arm when we were watching a movie, or the way she played with her hair when she was nervous, or even the way she would smile at me whenever she saw me. I was mesmerized by it all, every time she touched me, I felt sparks going down my spine. It sounds gay, I know. But after a week of just not doing anything about my obvious feelings, I knew it was time I took initiative. Part of the reason that I didn't do anything about it at first was because it didn't feel right moving on from Quinn so fast. It made me question my love for her; don't get me wrong, I love Quinn, but I can't keep pining over her, I think that's why I finally made a move, because I needed to move on.

It happened on Wednesday, it was her turn to pick the movie, since I made her watch Avatar, for the first time I might add, last time. We were watching some cheesy, romantic comedy that I was completely tuning out on. I was just watching Ashley, who was watching the movie intently; and then out of nowhere I just asked her, I wasn't scared or nervous or anything, I was confident. When I asked her she just looked at me for a while before a small smile crept on her face and she nodded. "Yes," she had said. Things were working out well for once.

Well today was Friday. '_I can't wait for our date tonight. x'_ Was what the text said; I quickly replied a 'me too' before Sally knocked on the door and entered. I look up from my phone and smile at her; I was doing a lot of smiling at people lately.

"Morning sir," Sally says walking, the always present clipboard in her hands.

"Good morning," I reply, "what's the agenda for today?" Sally was not only my nurse, but she also played the role of a personal assistant.

"First, you have to diagnose Quinn Fabray sir," Sally says reading off the clipboard, "Dr. Michaels has said that she could be released from the hospital, but you need to make sure her ribs are healed before she can leave."

"They seemed fairly well last time," I say sipping my coffee, taking the x-ray copy that Sally hands me, and studying it.

"You're going to have to do one more x-ray to make sure they're fully healed," Sally says leaving the clipboard on my desk, I nod and she walks out, as I study the previous x-ray. I stand up and walk towards the neurological department and into room 387. I enter without knocking and am presented with a sight that I didn't expect to see.

There is Quinn sitting up in the bed, and beside her is none other than Braden Michaels, saying something that is making Quinn burst into a fit of giggles. They're both smiling, holding hands, all gooey-eyed towards each other; it all makes me sick. They both look up on my intrusion and Braden glares at me, while Quinn looks down, cheeks red.

"Oh, I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt…" damn this is awkward. What the hell is Braden Michaels doing here? And why the hell do he and Quinn seem so…close.

"No, its fine," Quinn says looking up at me for a moment before looking away again.

"I just need to get the x-rays of your ribs to make sure their fully healed before you're allowed to be released," I say to Quinn, completely ignoring Braden's presence.

Quinn nods and looks up at Braden who is still glaring at me. I look at him too and then he looks down at Quinn and kisses her hand, "I'll be back in a few minutes," he says before smiling at her, and kissing her forehead. I just watch them; Quinn gives a small smile and Braden walks over to the door, which I'm standing by. He smirks at my confused expression before walking out the door and closing it.

I watch him leave and look over at Quinn. When the hell did this happen? Quinn's looking down at her hands like they're the most interesting pair of hands in the world.

A million thoughts are going through my head. Is that why she hasn't acted any differently? She might already have her memory back, but she doesn't care because she's into Braden now? That dick? When? How? Why?

I shake my head inadvertently, and walk towards Quinn. It was not my place anymore to worry about stuff like that; I had a date with a girl that I really liked tonight, I wasn't going to let old feelings ruin that. Quinn looks up as I walk towards her; she's probably expecting me to say something to her about Braden, but I'm not going to. I'm not even going to think about saying anything about that. We both need to forget about this, it was in the past and the last time we tried to rekindle past loves, we only ended up getting hurt.

"So, Quinn, I'm just going to ask you to walk with me to the x-ray room so we can get in your x-rays," I say basically looking down at my clipboard the whole time, even though there was nothing on there.

"Okay," Quinn says standing up gingerly. She was in her sky-blue hospital gown, with her hair pinned back in a low pony tail.

"You okay?" I ask as he cautiously takes a few steps towards the door. She hadn't walked since the accident; I can only imagine what's going through her head right now.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Quinn says holding onto the railing on the bed to steady herself.

"If you need I can go get a wheelchair; you don't need to walk," I suggest, but Quinn just shakes her like the head.

"No, it's alright," she says looking down, "I should be able to walk on my own by now, it's not like the accident affected my legs or anything."

"Quinn you're pregnant, you shouldn't be walking if you don't feel like you can. You can fall and seriously hurt yourself and your baby," I say before realizing what I was saying. Quinn looks at me and I immediately know what she was thinking about. I had said "your baby," it was 'our baby.' Talking about her being pregnant and showing concern about her and the baby was not the ideal way of moving on and not showing any emotion.

We don't say anything for a while. What the hell are we doing? We're grown adults, not teenagers. It shouldn't be this awkward and weird talking about this. I mean what were we going to do when the baby came into this world? There was so much that we need to talk about, but right now was just not the time.

"So…do you want me to get that wheelchair?" I finally ask.

Quinn doesn't look up but she nods, "I think it would be best."

I make her sit down on the bed before going to get a wheelchair for her; I find her in the same position as I left her when I come back. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, fingers interlaced on her lap, head down looking down at the floor. If I could only know what she was thinking about right now.

"Ready?" I ask rolling the wheelchair over to her. Quinn stands up and nods. I have her sit on the chair and I wheel her over to the x-ray room. We don't say anything on our way; I want to say something, anything, but I just don't know what to say.

Once we're in the x-ray room, I help Quinn up and have her sit on the x-ray table; from the outside, most people will just see a doctor and his patient, but that fact that we were both avoiding each others eyes and trying to keep our faces free of all emotion, showed something else. Something more…or less.

"So, have you been feeling any chest pain lately?" I ask as I set up the x-ray for Quinn, who was lying down on the table.

Quinn shakes her head, "not of late, there's the occasional hitch here and there but nothing more," Quinn says looking at the ceiling, "it might be those new pain killers."

I don't stop what I'm doing, but ask her what she means for the pure sake of not having to endure the silence, "new painkillers?" I ask and Quinn nods.

"Well, not really new, Bra- Dr. Michaels gave them to me about three weeks ago," Quinn says. Dr. Michaels, ofcourse.

"If they seem to be helping than maybe you should ask him for them in pills once you're released," I suggest looking over at Quinn, she just nods and doesn't change the direction of her eyes, for fear that they might meet mine. I'm getting tired of this…this awkwardness; why does she have to make it like this. It's just irritating, having to always be awkward around her, having to endure the silence and the tension. It's getting really annoying.

Sighing, I walk over to the table in which Quinn is lying on. "Quinn look at me," I say, or rather demand, my tone is stern and final.

She winces at my tone, and reluctantly looks at me, meeting my eyes for the first time since I walked in on her and Braden. "Yes?" she asks trying not to look away.

I sigh again and grab a chair before sitting down in it, beside the table. "Listen Quinn, it doesn't have to be like this," I say as she slowly sits up, biting her lip and turning away from me.

"Can we please not talk about this here?" she pleads, clearly uncomfortable.

"No, we need to talk about this Quinn, we need to figure things out," I say crossing my arms, not falling for her tricks, "you need to look at me, it doesn't have to be this awkward. We're not teenagers anymore; we don't have to act like this. We can still be friends, if you want to…or not, but it doesn't have to be like this."

"You said that I would understand once I remembered everything," Quinn said offhandedly, looking at me.

"Yes?" I say confusedly.

"I still don't remember," her voice comes out small, almost in a whisper, "everything's just as cloudy as before."

I really don't know what to say to that. How is this possible? It's been three weeks! Her recovery time was supposed to be about 1 to 2 weeks. "You'll remember," I say, I don't know who I'm talking to, myself or to her.

"What if I don't?" Quinn asks and for the first time I see emotion showing in her face, and in her voice. She's scared.

"Then you don't," I say; I want to tell her that she's being crazy because she will remember, but I'm not so sure myself. "You'll have new memories Quinn, it's not like you forgot everything."

"But I don't remember how our baby was conceived," she says, not holding anything back. I gulp; maybe it was just better leaving things awkward.

"I'm sure that won't matter," I say and Quinn looks offended when I do.

"You mean you don't want me to remember what we had, as you say it?" she asks furrowing her eyebrows at me in confusion and anger.

"Would all of that really matter?" I ask, I don't think it would. Not after what I walked into a few minutes ago.

"Of course it would matter!" Quinn says furious now, "it would affect the way I look at the father of my child!"

"Really?" I say challengingly, "after what I saw with you and 'Dr. Michaels,' I wouldn't think it would." I know it's low, and that I really shouldn't be using that since I had already slept with another girl, but I can't help it.

"That's none of your business," Quinn says stubbornly and I hold back a mocking laugh.

"Of course it isn't," I say chuckling humorlessly as Quinn narrows her eyes at me. "I'm not asking you to love me, or anything, I'm just asking you to be a little civil because in about 6 months we'll have to be at least friendly with one another," I gesture to her stomach.

Quinn doesn't say anything to that, so I just stand up and walk over to the x-ray machine and finish setting it up. When I'm done, Quinn is back lying down. I take the needed x-rays and wheel Quinn back to her room. We don't speak again, until she's sitting on her bed back in her room, and I'm about to leave.

"I'll get word back to you, on the results," I say finally before exiting the room.

Turns out Quinn's ribs were perfectly healed and she could be released. I didn't go to see her off; I knew Braden would make sure she went out nicely. I went home earlier than usual that day; most of the day I had totally forgotten about my date with Ashley, but you can't not remember things forever. Thankfully I wasn't running late or anything so I could go home, take a shower, and take my time getting dressed and making sure that I look presentable for tonight.

I will admit, the morning was not pleasant; but nevertheless, I wasn't going to let the past dictate the future. Fixing my collar, I run a hand through my hair and take a deep breath; I wanted to look good for tonight. I asses myself in the mirror; not bad, if I do say so myself. I smile at my reflection and grab my car keys, making sure I have my wallet, I walk out the door. Here goes nothing…

I get to the restaurant first; I'm early actually, but that just gives me more time to prepare myself. We had planned to meet at Spago, which was one of our favorite restaurants, at 7 and at 7 o'clock sharp, came in Ashley Carter.

I was already sitting at our table, going through my phone when I felt someone standing beside the table. "This seat taken?" Ashley asks with a smile. I quickly look up and once again am mesmerized by her beauty. She's wearing a soft pink strapless dress; her long hair was coating her bare shoulders in soft curls; she looked perfect.

I quickly stand up and shake my head, "only for you," I say answering her previous question, before pulling out her chair for her. Ashley smiles at me and takes the seat; I go over and sit across from her.

"You look beautiful," I tell her, and Ashley smiles.

"Thank you," she says, "you look good too."

I smile, all that time getting ready paid off, "thanks." The waiter comes and gives us our menus and after not at all a long time, since we both know this restaurant so well, we finish ordering and are waiting for the waiter to come back with our food.

"So, how was work?" Ashley asks taking a drink from her water.

I recall what happened with Quinn that morning and look at Ashley; I really need to tell her, but should I do it now? I don't want to ruin our date; but I don't want to keep it from her any longer than I need to. Sighing, I reach across the table and take her hand.

"I need to tell you something Ashley," I say looking into her deep brown eyes. Ashley nods at me to go on and I take a deep breathe before telling her my fate, "I'm about to become a father."

The silence in unbearable; its not even silence, there are other people laughing, talking, moving in the restaurant, but the silence is between us. Ashley just looks at me for a while, before pulling her hand back and looking away.

"And you just chose to tell me this, now?" she asks, "three weeks later?"

"I'm sorry," I say honestly, "I just didn't want to unload on you or anything, but now I just think you have the right to know." I wouldn't blame her if she ran out of here.

"Are you married?" she asks offhandedly.

"What? No. Ofcourse not," I say, taken aback by her question.

"Maybe you should explain this to me Sam," she says crossing her arms and waiting for me to talk.

I sigh, "her name is Quinn, and she's about 3 months along," I start, I'm not going to go into cruciating detail about what happened, I don't need to, "we were never really together, it just happened one day and we're not really friends now, let alone anything else. She's found someone else, and," I look Ashley in the eyes, "I'd like to think that I have too."

Ashley doesn't say anything for a while. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to do this anymore," I say.

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

Being back home was great. Home sweet home; there was nothing like it. I'm sitting down in a chair on my balcony, watching the city go by with their way. It's about 7:30 right now, and nightfall is just about here. It's really nice out today, there's a warm breeze and it's not that hot out.

It was weird at first to be back here, but I'm bound to get used to it. It's different from the way I remember it; the couch and the TV are in the opposite sides than I remember it, and the sheets on my bed are foreign. Everything is different, and that doesn't feel so great.

Santana and Brittany said that they could stay with me if I wanted, so did Braden, but I told them it was fine. I just needed to be on my own for a while. Santana and Brittany were hesitant, but they did eventually leave. Braden left with telling me that if I needed anything at all, I should call him, and he told me to make sure I took those pills he gave me for my chest pain.

Looking back, I realized that I didn't even know how Braden and I got to where we are now. I don't really know if we're dating or not. We had just gotten really…close over the past three weeks. It started off slow, we were just eating lunch together and stuff, and then just like that one day we became more. I know, not a really good explanation, but I can't even really explain it to myself. Sometimes I feel like I just need someone new, you know; someone to move on from all this craziness.

I liked having Braden's company; he's a really nice guy once you get to know him. I can't help but smile around him, he makes me happy and that's really all I can ask for at this point. The possibility of anything more is out of the picture right now. I'm pregnant with another man's baby; who would want to deal with that.

That, said another man didn't seem to want any part of my anymore, so that takes him out of the picture too. He didn't even seem to care whether or not I remembered what happened between us, he didn't even want to try to make me remember or anything. Maybe he's found someone else, he's seemed happier than usual for the past few days. Well, good for him. I'm happy for him. I am, he deserves to be happy. I don't care if he's with someone else…

Who am I kidding, of course I do.

I had been pretty hard on him when I told him what Santana and Brittany told me, I knew that. But looking back, I had forgiven him for what he had or hadn't done as soon as he walked out the door that day. I wasn't going to hold this against Sam, he was a good guy, and I believe that. Yes, I still loved him, maybe in spite of everything, or maybe because of everything.

I walk into my bedroom; it's neat and organized just like most of the apartment. I go over and sit on my bed, putting a hand on my slightly bloated stomach. In about six months, my stomach would go back to flat and hopefully, I'd be holding a happy, healthy baby. Sam had said that we needed to talk about what we were going to do after the baby arrived.

I have no doubt in my mind that he wanted to be part of the baby's life. I wanted him to be part of the baby's life; but how would everyone else fit into this. How would Braden fit into this? Truth is I didn't know…

Maybe it would be best if I stayed single; I didn't want to burden anyone else with what I have, and honestly I didn't anyone else to burden me. I didn't want to have to deal with the drama that comes from a relationship; and I knew there was going to be drama for sure if I decided to pursue my…whatever it was that Braden and I had. Things were still in the early stages, but I know that if I ever wanted to stay drama and emotional turmoil free, I needed to stop things before they got too far.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

"So she was your first love?" Ashley asks, as we walked further into the park.

"Yeah," I say, squeezing her hand tighter in mine, "my first everything, really."

Ashley nods, understanding and looks on down the walkway. I look over at her; I still can't believe she didn't get out as soon as she could. She just told me that she wanted to know more about what had happened, and soon I found myself completely opening up to her; telling her everything. Then, we found ourselves walking into an empty park that I had never seen before.

"And your ex-wife Mallory, are you still in contact with her?" Ashley asks catching me staring at her; she gives a small smile that I return.

"No," I say looking forward, "we don't really talk anymore."

"And Quinn, do you still love her?" Ashley asks after awhile, looking forward.

I look over at her, she's biting her lip and looking on; I really don't know what I should stay. Yes, I still love Quinn; I don't think I'll ever stop loving her. Heck, there is no way that I'll be able to stop being in love with her for a while.

"No," I say squeezing Ashley's hand, that I was holding and turning her face to look at me. She looks at me with those soft pretty eyes, "I wouldn't be doing this if I still did." Another lie, but I didn't really care anymore. I lean forward and kiss Ashley; it just seemed like the right thing to do, I wanted to do it and I did it.

I turned my body and held her there by the back of her head, and put another arm around her waist; Ashley didn't do anything at first, but soon enough she snaked her hand up to hold me by the neck, and kissed me back.

After many moments of me getting lost in the feeling of her soft, sensual lips, we pulled away.

"I've wanted to do that for a while now," I say, not trying to be cheesy or anything, but that was just the first thing that came to my mind after we broke apart.

Ashley smiles and pulls my face back to hers again, we both smile against each other lips as we deepen the kiss.

Yeah, this date was going pretty well if you ask me…

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

The next morning, I wake up around 9, feeling odd not to be in a hospital room, but nevertheless, I get up and make breakfast; if you count half-burnt pancakes with bitter maple syrup, making breakfast. As soon as I finished eating, I hear a knocking at the door.

Finishing washing my plate, I wipe my hands on a towel before answering the door to find a smiling Braden Michaels waiting on the other side.

"I hope I didn't wake you up or anything," Braden says smiling at me. I gulp; I had thought about what I was going to last night; but never did I expect that I would have to carry out my decision as soon as now.

"Uh, no you didn't wake me," I say forcing a smile onto my face. I really did liked Braden, he was the first decent guy that I had been with in a long time… well, first decent guy that I remembered; ending whatever was going on wasn't going to be easy, "would you like to come in?"

Braden smiles and I immediately know that he's getting the wrong idea. He nods and I open the door further and step aside, letting him in. This is the second time he's been in my home; the first was when he came with me, Santana and Brittany yesterday. He walks past the foyer, into the living room. I follow him and sigh; this wasn't going to fun.

I mention for him to sit down and he does; I sit beside him on the couch, and look at him.

"Quinn? Is everything okay?" he asks with concern, "have you been taking those painkillers I gave you?"

I look at him questioningly, "yes," where did that come from? "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Braden says quickly, "something's bothering you. Tell me."

I sigh for what seems like the 5th time since he came here. "Braden, I can't do this anymore," I say looking down at my hands, not wanting to look at him. I never had to do this before; never had to break up with someone at no fault of their own.

He doesn't say anything for a while; and I can't take the silence anymore. I look up at him; he's looking forward, not looking at me.

"Please say something," I plead, I don't want this to be harder than it needs to be.

"What do you want me to say?" Braden says finally looking at me.

"I don't know," I say quietly, looking down again.

"Why, Quinn?" he asks, looking at me.

"I'm having another man's baby Braden," I say sharper than I meant to, "we can't be together with this hanging over our heads."

"And why is that?" Braden counters, "I don't know about you, but I really like you Quinn. I know that Sam hurt you, but I'm not like that. Just give me a shot."

I should've expected this; but I just didn't know what I should say. "Braden this isn't about Sam, or anyone else, I just don't feel right being with someone else while I am the way I am," I say, trying to make him understand, which is hard because I don't even understand why I'm doing what I'm doing. I just have this feeling…

"Quinn, please just give me a chance," he sits up and takes my hands, "please let me change your mind. Take as long as you need but don't deny your heart."

I had nothing to say to that. Was he right? Was I denying my heart? I honestly didn't know what I was doing right now. I had no idea what was right and what was wrong anymore. I felt like laughing and crying at the same time; what the hell was going on with me? How did I get to where I am right now? At this moment I really couldn't figure anything out. I needed answers and I knew just who could give them to me.

_SQ_

Sam's POV

_Ding! Dong!_

I groan, as the annoying doorbell wakes me up. Ashley giggles and slowly sits up. I groan again and throw my arm around her waist, pulling her back down on the bed.

"Sam! Someone's at the door," Ashley says in my ear laughing.

"It's probably just some kid trying to sell something, or some church group thing," I say sleepily, still not opening my eyes, "who would be up this early."

"Sam, it's almost 10:30," Ashley says, a smile in her voice.

I moan; and finally sit up, and rub my eyes with my hands. "Fine, I'll go shoo whoever it is away, because obviously you're too sleepy to do so," I say playfully to Ashley.

Ashley laughs, "That I am," she says getting on her knees and coming over to kiss me, pulling at my bottom lip and before I can take it any further, she pulls away; the person kept ringing the bell. "Looks like whoever it is, is getting impatient, better go!" she pushes me off the bed and I groan again.

"You tease," I say pulling on my boxers and my jeans from yesterday, not bothering with fixing my hair or putting on a shirt. I walk out the door and head down the stairs and answer the door without bothering to see who it was.

When I see Quinn Fabray standing at my doorstep; I am shocked to say the least. Quinn gives a small smile when she sees me and then her eyes go down my half-naked form. I immediately feel my cheeks and chest reddening.

"Uh…hi," I say really wishing that I had just spent that extra two seconds to put on a shirt; oh, well, it's nothing she hasn't seen before.

"Hi," Quinn says, looking slightly uncomfortable to be here with me in my half-naked state, "can I come in?"

I run a hand through my sex hair; this was not good, not good at all. "Uh…I don't think that's such a good idea," I say as nicely as I could; it's not that I didn't want to see her; I just had a woman in my bed at this particular time.

Quinn looks at me questioningly but before she could ask why, I hear a voice call me from the stairs "Sam? Who is it?" Ashley asks coming to stand beside me; she and Quinn could come face to face with one another. Well, wasn't this awkward; I look at Ashley who just has the white bed sheet wrapped around her naked body. I want to hit my head against a brick; this was not going to end well.

I realize that both girls are looking at me, waiting for a proper introduction maybe. Ashley looks genuinely curious, and Quinn just looks…betrayed. Not that she has any right to feel or look that way. Wasn't she the one all gooey-eyes towards Michaels now?

"Uh…well, Ashley, this, this is Quinn," I tell Ashley, whose eyes get wide with realization, "and Quinn, this is, uh, my…this is Ashley."

Quinn puts an obviously forced smile on her face and looks at Ashley, Ashley doesn't smile, she just looks uncomfortable being here.

"Uh…I'll just leave you two alone, um…"Ashley looks at me and descends further into the house and upstairs.

I sigh and step outside the threshold, and close the door behind me; the cool morning air hits my torso, making me shiver slightly. I knew that I had a ton of explaining to do. "Listen Quinn…" I start but Quinn just shakes her head.

"I shouldn't have come here," she says, I don't know if she's even talking to me. She's looking down, the emotion is clear on her face; but what emotion it is, is hard to read.

"No, Quinn," I say, even though I don't have much support to back up my claim, "I just wasn't expecting anyone, but your welcome to come anytime you want." Well, didn't that just sound like a totally dick move. Oh yeah, you're welcome anytime you want even though it'll be super awkward since my girlfriend and I are almost naked and not at all apt to have visitors.

Quinn reluctantly nodded, even though I knew she didn't believe a word that I said. "I guess, I'll be leaving now," Quinn says looking up and giving a smile that was almost as forced as the one she game Ashley.

"What- no, Quinn," I grab her wrist as she walks away, "you must've come here for something, you can still tell me, its okay." She looks at me like I'm crazy. Obviously it wasn't okay… I don't blame her for not wanting to be here right now, I mean, I wanted to kill Michaels when I saw how close they had gotten.

"Obviously not, since you have someone waiting for you back in there," Quinn says sharply, gesturing towards the loft.

I'm taken aback by her comment; but my surprise soon mixes with anger, "oh, come on Quinn, don't give me that bull," I say crossing my arms across my chest, "if you can move on, then why can't I?"

"By move on, do you mean sleep with someone else the day after you see me talking with another man?" Quinn questions back, just as angry. I had actually first slept with Ashley three weeks earlier than her suspected time, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

"You didn't even wait for me to move on Quinn, you just went after Braden fucking Michaels as soon as you found out that our relationship hadn't been all rainbows and butterflies," I snap and Quinn's eyes are flashing with anger.

"I didn't sleep with him you jerk!" she says shoving me back so that I hit the door. I am so glad that my nearest person lives a while away, and that I have sound proof walls, because we were basically shouting at each other as the ocean waves were crashing in the back ground.

"It wouldn't have taken long," I say and Quinn gives me a look, and if looks could kill, I would've been already in my grave right now.

"Yes, I would have! As soon as I got home, I decided to break things off with him because I wanted to make this," she jesters the space between us, "whatever it is we had, work. But apparently all of those words you said about loving me were just words, because it didn't take you long at all to forget about me." Quinn has tears in her eyes, by this point.

"Didn't take long?" I ask furious right now, "I saw you Quinn, and I knew there was no way that things would be the same between us; I knew it was over, you told me it was! Forget you huh? You are in every thought that I have! You didn't seem to care about my feelings three weeks ago when you were telling me to leave you alone."

"I didn't mean that," Quinn says quietly, looking down.

"Oh, that's rich Quinn," I say laughing humorlessly, "you made it pretty clear that you wanted nothing to do with me with those cold looks and stares you would give me whenever I came to check on you."

"So, just because I gave you a few cold stares, you go off having sex with the first woman you see?" she asks, full on crying now. Yep, she basically said what I had done right there, but I wasn't going to let her win this one so easily; although her tears made me feel a sting in my heart.

"I couldn't pine over you forever Quinn," I say calmly.

"Do you want any part of this baby's life?" Quinn asks quietly, tears streaming down her face.

I fell like she just slapped me in the face, "ofcourse I do," I say, wanting, despite of how we had just gone at each other, to go and comfort her.

"I would've thought you wouldn't want something like this burdening you now that you've clearly moved on," Quinn says leaning against the back wall, "I would've though you wouldn't want it anymore since you clearly don't love me anymore."

Did she honestly think that it was that easy to stop loving her? "How do you I don't love you?" I say quietly, inadvertently walking closer to her.

"The girl that showed up with a sheet wrapped around her, proved that Sam," Quinn says crossing her arms across her chest.

"I needed someone to help me stop loving you Quinn," I say crossing my arms too; "I couldn't do it alone." I step closer to her, "even then it would take me years to forget you. I never stopped loving you after high school until I got married 6 years later."

Quinn didn't say anything; we just continued to stare at each other for a while before she finally sighed. "I never stopped loving you either," she finally says, looking down, "even before everything happened between us; I can still remember loving you."

Oh, how badly I want to reach out and take her in my arms, but I stood frozen in my spot. "Quinn…I don't know what to say."

"Neither do I," she whispers, loud enough so that I can hear.

"You don't need to break things off with Braden you know," I sigh. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I know the reason she broke things off with him was because she felt guilty, because she thought that she owed it to me to try things with me; and as much I want to, I can't let her do this. She doesn't owe me anything; what we had is gone, and if she doesn't get her memory back, I don't think we'll ever get it back. She deserves to be happy; and if she's happy, so am I, even if she's with Michaels. He'll make her happy, a lot more that I can. We can only end in heartbreak; I don't want her to go through that again. Yeah, I know, I'm so noble.

Quinn looks at me questioningly, "what do you mean?"

"You don't owe me anything Quinn; it's okay to move on, it's okay to be happy with someone else."

"But what are we going to do about the baby?" Quinn asks, putting a hand on her stomach.

I reluctantly put a hand over hers, on her stomach, "we'll make it work; things can rapidly change in the next 6 months, but whatever it is Quinn, I want you to know that I'll always be there for you and the baby."

Quinn nods, "thank you," she says quietly.

I give a small, sad smile; it really felt like it was ending now. There was a tiny spark in my heart before that I thought that Quinn and I might end up together; but right now it felt like that spark was being stomped on. Maybe this was for the best; for both of us…maybe we just weren't meant to be.

"I probably should go now," Quinn says, I really don't want her to go, but maybe she needed to.

"You don't have to," I say a little too quickly, although I'm not afraid of her reaction of what she'll think; we're past that now. "You could come in for breakfast, Ashley…uh, she knows about us and all, and she's really nice and stuff…"

Quinn gives a small smile, but shakes her head, "that's okay Sam, thank you though," she says wiping away her stray tears. "I have a lot of things I need to do."

"Bye Quinn," it felt a lot more than just a 'see you later.'

"Bye Sam."

_SQ_

Quinn's POV

The tears started as soon as I got in my car. That was as long as I could hold them in; I knew they were coming as soon as I turned away and started walking away. They didn't stop even when I got home.

I was happy for him; I really was. If he was happy than so was I. Happy just never had felt this sad. He had told me that I didn't need to break things off with Braden; but I felt like I did. Not for him; but for me. I didn't want to be in a relationship right now…what I was doing is for the best.

Did I really think that he would pine over me forever? Everyone needs to move on, and Sam definitely had. I wasn't going to force him to not live his life; I wanted him to be happy. And maybe, just maybe I could find happiness on the way.

As I go up the elevator to my apartment; I'm as confused as ever. If Sam could find happiness with someone else; then maybe I shouldn't be so rigid…maybe I should open up a little and give Braden a chance.

I had told him that I just needed some time to figure out what I was going to do, when he was in my apartment earlier this morning. He had left right after that; telling me to take as long as I needed, that he would wait for me.

I step out of the elevator, and walk down the hall; surprised to see one Braden Williams, standing in front of my door; flowers in hand.

I smile as I walk closer to him. Maybe, just maybe this could work.

"…Quinn, hey" he says as he sees me walking towards him.

"Hey," I say smiling, "what're you doing here?"

"I, I, uh, I just wanted to tell you that I just want you to be happy; you don't have to be with me or anything, but I just wanted to tell you that I'll be there for you," he stammers, obviously nervous. I smile wider…maybe I could be happy after all.

**Okay, so how do you feel about Braden now? He's still going to the bad guy here; there's more to him that meets the eye. Now, don't any of you for 1 second think that Sam and Quinn aren't going to end up together in this story; there is no way I would have them end up alone or with other people. They'll end up together. **

**Tell me what you think. Love it? Hate it? Let me know.**

**Please Review!**


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